


Unstoppable

by Veilrony



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Frostbite, M/M, Modern AU, Reiner Braun & Annie Leonhart Are Related, Trans Male Character, Workplace Rivalry, mlm author, potential kidnappers become the potentially kidnapped whoops, superpower au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 43,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veilrony/pseuds/Veilrony
Summary: Bertolt Hoover is the new guy at the office. He's none too familiar with people, and his new coworkers are none too easy to get to know. On the other hand, Reiner Braun is well-established. He's fun, confident, and friendly. He has to be, or people would notice his odd sleeping habits, lack of sick days, or, in light of the new attacks from a monster named Titan, the fact that he never answers his phone when people check in on him...





	1. Chapter 1

Bertolt Hoover never saw his coworkers as that energetic. He’d been working at the office for three days, and only one of his coworkers had tried to utter any semblance of friendly conversation with them. The rest of the time, you could hear them whispering at each-other. Unless Sasha and Connie were in the house. Then he could hear them loudly bickering. It always seemed in good fun though.    
  


Then there was the tall blond ushering a smaller blond away from his cubicle. The smaller one would always stutter as he tried to explain to the tall guy that “Commander” (whoever that was) needed him to make those changes to the website as soon as possible. He wondered if the tall one ever listened.   
  


Then there was another blonde, who followed a girl nearly as tall as him around like a puppy. Bertolt found it funny whenever the intern would pass by behind him, because he’d hear her rattling off what needed to be done. He’d never heard a word from the tall girl. Sometimes, he’d hear shouting from the cubicles around him. Those were from Eren, the kid who had talked with him, and Jean, whom Eren had warned him about.   
  


They were strange, but nobody seemed too friendly with him. He hoped they’d warm up. But maybe he’d have to warm up first. To be fair, he hadn’t left his cubicle for those entire three days, except to pour himself some coffee.   
  


Wasn’t Eren saying that somebody was already the informal coffee runner? Armin or Levi… he couldn’t remember.   
  


Sitting on a bench waiting for the bus, he pondered that. Snow blew in his face, and he hand to dig his face into his hoodie to try and stop the wind. He’d kill for a coffee.   
  


“Hey, Bertolt!” he heard. He lifted his head, feeling the dusting of frost that was on his head falling to his shoulders. He twisted around to see the tall blond man from the office. He didn’t respond, but could see the blond shuffling along the icy sidewalk to meet him. “Yo, Bertolt. The guys at the office were wondering if you wanted to come along with us.”   
  


Bertl blinked. “Come along where?” he asked.   
  


He could see the tall guy narrow his eyes for a second before realization dawned on his face. “Me and the guys are going down to a bar. I forgot to mention that, didn’t I.”   
  


Bertolt nodded politely. “Yeah.”   
  


“Welp. I probably haven’t told you my name yet, either.” He grinned, and held his hand out over the bench back. “Reiner Braun.”   
  


He nodded with a polite smile. He took the hand and shook it. “Bertolt Hoover,” he replied. Wait, Reiner already called him Bertolt... “How’d you know my name?”   
  


Reiner shrugged. “Commander told us to play nice with ya.” At the confusion that must’ve been on his face, he continued with, “Erwin.”   
  


Now he remembered. The blond with the brows that took up half of his face. There were a lot of blonds around the office, weren’t there? “So, whaddya say?” Reiner asked. “Wanna come?”   
Bertolt nodded slowly. Why not? It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. He heaved his long, twiggy body off of the park bench and brushed the snow off his hoodie. Man, it was freezing out here. “Sure,” he said, walking towards him. He grinned at the sight of Reiner’s blue eyes sparkling. “Where to?”   
  


In the background, he could hear a loud crowing. Then, a pair started chanting, “One of us, one of us!” Bertolt blushed at the sight of the rest of his coworkers around a block down. They were all in varying amounts of winter clothing except for a short, dark-haired man. He was in nothing but a tank top and capris. Bertl hoped he wasn’t as insane as his winter-wear choices implied.    
Bertl shuffled alongside Reiner, blushing at the sudden attention. When he joined the group, he was slapped on the back, hard. He twisted around instinctively to see the tall dark-haired woman glaring up at him.   
  


“It’s nice to meet you,” he said in an attempt to be polite.   
  


She curled her lip and narrowed her already-thin brows. “You too. I’m Ymir Gotten.” Her face was dotted with freckles, and some made streaks just below her eyes that looked like black stripes. Her eyes were golden.   
  


Despite her angry face, she looked friendly enough. At least, Bertolt hoped so. “Bertolt Hoover… You already know that, don’t you?”   
  


“Damn right,” she said. “Word spreads quickly, you know?” She breathed a carefree sigh as she started walking ahead of the group. “I mean, this bar trip was just going to be Connie and Sasha’s little outing, then before you know it…” She made an explosive gesture with her gloved fingers. “Boom, we’re all in it.”   
  


Bertolt had to shorten his strides as he realized he was getting ahead of her. “You guys have to be close, then, right?”   
  


“We’re more closely knit than Moses’ basket,” someone said behind them.   
  


Bertolt twisted around, and Ymir started to cackle. “Marco, the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”   
  


The man behind them looked around Bertl’s age. He was freckled and wide-eyed, like some movie-esque portrayal of a farm-boy.  “Well, you know. Moses’ mom wove him a basket, right? And it was watertight, so…”   
  


“A biblical reference?” Ymir laughed again. “Way to make yourself look cool!”   
  


Marco blushed, then fell back to stand beside a guy with a two-toned undercut. “It was a joke, y’know?”   
  


Bertl forced himself to smile at the joke. “It’s cool. I sorta got it.”   
  


Marco didn’t talk much after that. It looked like the undercut guy was laughing, and it started to sound eerily familiar. “You done goofed, Marco.” To that, Marco grimaced and let out a deep sigh.    
  


So that was Jean… Everything was starting to come together.   
  


“If you keep walking so slowly, the place will close by the time we get there!” Reiner shouted, shouldering through the crowd.   
  


“Honestly,” the short man in capris said, only loud enough to be heard.   
  


Reiner found his way beside Bertl, but kept going faster. Bertl found himself trying to follow Reiner’s strides, which turned out even longer than his own, despite Reiner being shorter than him. “So, what’s the place?” Bertl asked.   
  


“C’mon, get on my shoulders,” he heard someone in the background say. Bertl tried to ignore it.   
  


“Eh, it’s just a bar, right? Nothing special about it.” Reiner paused for a moment, then laughed. “Not like it’s a gay bar, right?”   
  


Bertl now found himself laughing at the joke. “Of course not!” That would be an interesting place to take someone they’d just met.   
  


He had to squint at Reiner now that snow started to encrust his lashes. He was honestly pretty cute. Friendly, and apparently funny? Bertl found himself smiling. Maybe he’d like this new job.   
After all, everyone here seemed to be friendly enough.   
  


“Coming through!” a boy shouted. Someone half Bertolt’s size came cruising through the crowd. A redhead sporting a fuzzy coat and dark sunglasses crowed from above Bertl’s head. He jumped out of the way just in time for her to spread her arms out.   
  


“Sasha, the fuck?” Reiner called as the two ran ahead.   
  


“Connie’s idea!” the redhead shouted back.   
  


Bertolt regained his composure quickly. “Eren told me about Connie and Sasha,” he said, assuming those were their names, “But I didn’t think they were  _ that _ energetic.”   
  


“Yeah, about that…” Reiner said. “Sorry we haven’t formally introduced ourselves. But believe you me, by the end of the night, you’ll know us pretty darn well, right?”   
  


Bertolt nodded, digging his hands into his sweater pockets to keep him warm. The snow crunched beneath all of their feet, almost in unison.    
  


Sasha and Connie kept on piggybacking ahead of the group.   
  


Reiner leaned into Bertolt, a sly grin on his face. “Wanna join them up there?”   
  


Stiffening, Bertl jumped out of the way. “Um, I’m really heavy,” he said. Actually, he was underweight, but he didn’t suspect that Reiner would notice beneath the baggy clothing. Being around 6’4 probably helped the illusion.   
  


Apparently, it didn’t fool Reiner. “I’m really strong,” he retorted. “Come on.”   
  


“Leave him alone, Reiner,” Ymir said. Bertolt twisted around to see that she was piggybacking the small blonde girl, who was shivering and grasping onto her tightly.   
  


“Psh, whatever you say,” Reiner said, flashing a brilliant white smile. Bertolt nodded and threw an awkward grin back at Ymir. He wanted to thank her, but he thought it would be rude to say so.   
  


It was nice to have Ymir defending him, though. He’d probably want to hang around her more. Either way, if this was how the group acted just walking down the street, he wondered what they’d act like as Bertl grew closer to them.   
  


And because they were headed to a bar, he was afraid of what they’d act like when drunk.


	2. Chapter 2

Bertolt forgot what it was like to actually be in a bar. The first and last time he’d been in one was his 18th birthday, where he ended up feeling uncomfortable the entire time while his entire friend-group got wasted. Needless to say, he was the designated driver in a very crowded car.

Looking at it now, he felt like the situation was going to replay itself. The difference was that this was a karaoke bar, and Connie and Sasha weren’t the best singers.

All Star blasted in the background as Connie, Sasha, Marco and Jean caterwauled to it.

Bertl looked around to see if anyone else wasn’t drunk. He met eyes with Levi, the man who was in summer-wear earlier. But no, his scarf was untied and his eyes were glazed, reflecting the foggy red lights that hung above him. Bertolt slid off his stool, his feet already on the ground, and started to walk towards him. He tilted his head to get a better look at Levi. He looked absolutely despondent. Was he even conscious?

He was pulled away from the table by a strong hand. His heart skipped a beat, and he already held his fists out in front of him to defend himself from his attacker. He was twisted around until he was face to face with Reiner, who wrapped his arm around Bertl’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t get too close to Levi when he’s drunk,” Reiner said. “Unpredictable, y’know?”

Bertl didn’t know, but nodded anyways. “Thanks, I guess,” he said.

“You’ll understand later,” Reiner quipped. Twisting towards the bar, where Ymir was bent over an empty glass, Reiner pursed his lips. “You haven’t gotten a drink yet, have you?”

“I don’t drink,” he said.

“A college student like you?”

“I’m 23. Didn’t go.” He didn’t want to drink. He didn’t want to let his guard down, say things he didn’t want to say. “And unlike you guys,” he said underneath his breath, “I don’t want your first impression of me to be an alcoholic.”

“Tone down the shade, I can hear you,” Reiner said. Bertl flinched but couldn’t see any anger on Reiner’s face. But Bertolt could barely hear his own voice, how could Riner have? He was a good foot and a half away, and the sound battering at their ears wouldn’t have helped.

Maybe he just had good hearing.

“Whatever, lemme buy you one.” Reiner sauntered to the counter. Bertolt felt he was obligated to follow, so trailed behind him, tripping over a stool on his way. He stumbled, putting both hands on the counter to balance himself.

“That’s the spirit,” Reiner said. He leaned over onto the counter. “I’ll have a screwdriver, and my shadow here will have…”

Bertl bristled in indignance but didn’t say anything to Reiner about being called a shadow. Trying to ignore it, he ran drinks through his head. What was it that his parents drank all the time? “A… long island iced tea?” he asked. That was what it was, right? He never really paid attention to whatever his parents used to mix at home.

“You sure about that one?” Reiner said.

Bertl pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure.”

“Alrighty then, a screwdriver and a long island iced tea.” Reiner heaved a sigh and reached into his pocket for a wallet. He fished it out an laid a twenty on a table. The bartender took it, then got to mixing.

Bertl looked around the bar to see how the rest of his coworkers were faring. He noticed that Eren and Armin were hanging out at a table close to the karaoke stage. There was Eren and that short blonde. His long hair was pulled into a waterfall braid (Bertl hated himself for knowing what that was), but he was fiddling around with Eren’s smooth black hair. Eren didn’t seem to care, as Armin could hear him loudly babbling about… something. He sounded kinda angry though, so he wasn’t going to bother them. He hoped they had a taxi ready.

At the sound of glass sliding on wood, Bertl brought his attention back to the counter. He stared at the brown drink in front of him. He nodded his head in thanks, picking it up slowly. This was his first drink ever, besides the sip that he ended up pawning off on his boyfriend at the time. Sasha, Connie, Marco, and Jean finished singing, and the last notes filtered out. “Any more requests?” Jean slurred.

Bertl bristled in second-hand embarrassment, which only got worse when Eren shouted, “That was Shit-tastic! Get yer ass off the stage!”

“Fuck you too!”

The bartender muttered something under his breath, but it was probably something along the lines of, “Quit it.”

“Cheers,” Reiner said, holding his cup up. Bertl flinched, bringing his attention back to Reiner. He nodded with a thin-lipped smile.

“Cheers?” he said, putting his glass up to Reiner’s.

“Yeah, man. It’s your first outing with us, right?” The red light above his head seemed to make his eyes glow, but his eyes might’ve been glassy like a drunk person’s eyes usually were. He was doing a great job hiding it otherwise, though.

He shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s really worthy of a…” He trailed off, struggling for the word. “Toast, you know?”

“Sure it is,” Reiner said. He held the drink up to his mouth and nearly drank it all in one gulp. “I’ve only seen a bit of you, but so far you’re pretty cool.”

“Thanks,” Bertolt said.

Both Reiner and Bertolt were quiet, as if they were waiting for the other to say something. Apparently, nothing was going to come out. To try and appease the awkwardness, Bertl took a sip of his drink. It was smooth and silky, but also had a strange bitterness at the back of his mouth. It was interesting, but not half bad. He took a bigger swig.

Reiner took the last of his shot and sighed with satisfaction. Bertl didn’t imitate it, he was just drinking to appease Reiner. It’d be rude to refuse his offer, right?

They finished their drinks quietly. Bertolt didn’t feel any less sober than he was, and the iced tea ended up being pretty good. Maybe they weren’t actually that alcoholic. It wasn’t straight vodka, right? One more couldn’t hurt. He fished into his pocket for his wallet, then pulled out a tenner. He grimaced as he looked at the bartender again. “Another Long Island Iced Tea?” he asked.

Before the bartender could take it, Reiner slapped a twenty onto the table. “I’ll pay for you, Bertl. First time out and all.” He flashed a white, toothy grin at Bertl. He felt forced to pull away his own bill and put it back into his own pocket. “Thanks, Reiner, again,” he stuttered, feeling awkward that Reiner would be spending any money on him at all.

“No problem.” To the bartender, he said, “Another screwdriver, thanks.”

Bertl took another sip of his drink. “Thanks again,” he said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it.” Reiner took another large swig out of his second drink. “So, Bertl.” He shrugged, and took another drink. “Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Despite the sweet liquid still in his mouth, Bertl’s mouth went dry. He swallowed quickly. He’d really sucked at this part of the job interview. With alcohol in his system it could only get worse. “Um, there’s nothing really interesting about me really. I was born out in a rural town, planned to go to college but that never really happened…” His mind felt foggy at the rest of the details, so he just licked his lips and ended with, “and I’ve sorta been hopping between jobs. So I’m here.”

“Cool,” Reiner said. He ordered another drink. “Well, I was born and raised in Toronto and went to college to major in graphic design. And yeah, I was in the same boat you were until my sister showed me this place.”

“Sister?” Bertl asked on impulse.

“Nevermind,” Reiner said, waving his hand dismissively. “What’d you wanna major in?”

Bertolt knew his interest wasn’t that well — interesting. He shrugged and looked into his glass as he said, “Etymology” quietly.

“Really?” Reiner asked, leaning on the counter with his hands. “Bugs?”

“History behind words,” he said quickly. He expected the bug remark.

“Why that then?” he asked, his voice still perfectly articulated despite how much he was drinking.

Bertolt took a long drink. “Well,” he started, “I liked learning about languages and stuff, and English is honestly this…” he trailed off again, hunting for the word. He didn’t find it. “This… mishmash of other words and old references, and I thought that it’d be cool for me to learn more about that sorta stuff.”

“And what happened to that?” Reiner asked.

Bertolt was about to open his mouth to respond, but then stopped. He didn’t want to think about that. “Something happened at home,” he said. He took another drink. If drinking really made him forget, then he might as well just finish his drink off.

“Shit, man, sorry.”

“Nevermind,” Bertolt said, wiping the drink off of his lips. He hunted around for a topic, then remembered Reiner had a sister. “Tell me about your sister.”

Reiner shrugged. “She’s my sister. She’s a bit of a slacker honestly, but I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Bertolt shook a creeping dizziness from his head. “What’s she do for a living?”

Reiner stared at him for a second, brows furrowed. “Professional slacker,” he said with a hefty chuckle. Bertl found himself giggling along but he didn’t know why. He smiled at Reiner, then went to take a sip but found he was drinking from an empty cup. He quite liked the sugary drink, but he was starting to feel his head fogging up. He should probably stop…

“Lionhead’s pretty cool though, besides being unemployed. I mean, don’t get her mad. Hoo boy,” Reiner grimaced and sucked in a deep breath, scratching the back of his head. “Bad idea.”

Bertl nodded, more enthusiastically than he should’ve been. “That’s cool.”

“Yo, Reiner!” Bertl heard someone say. He twisted around to see that Eren was staggering up to them. His bangs, which were usually pulled to the sides, were pulled up into a braided ponytail. He also had a man-bun to match his blond friend’s. He looked ridiculous to say the least, but also threatening.

Bertolt stiffened as he realized that Eren was absolutely wasted, and was probably extremely unpredictable. He put his cup on the counter after realizing he still held it. He bit the inside of his lip, trying not to anger Eren by even making the smallest movement. He’d never had good experiences around drunk people.

“Why’d she dump me, man?” Eren asked.

Bertl felt himself burying his head into his sweater. This was going to get really awkward, really quickly. For some reason, he didn’t care.

“I don’t know, Eren,” Reiner said. Bertl heard him take a deep sigh. “Maybe just ask her?”

“Nah, man, can’t do that. She’d kick the shit outta me.”

Bertl noticed Reiner’s lip curl. “Damn straight,” he whispered. “There’s a good reason for that, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eren slurred. “Take that back.”

Reiner shook his head, wiping the liquor from his thin lips. “Can’t take back facts.” He ordered another drink, like he was completely ignoring Eren. If a drunk guy came up to Bertl asking why someone dumped him, he’d be freaking out. How was he so nonchalant?

Bertl heard a growl from Eren, then he watched as Eren started running at Reiner. He twisted away to avoid seeing what happened next, but out of the corner of his vision saw Eren jump up. Then, he heard the sound of a drink spilling over the counter. He turned back to see what had happened.

Both Bertl and Reiner’s cups were rolling on the counter, and there was a reddening bruise on Reiner’s jaw. Reiner was taking deep breaths, but his face was strained with anger. Eren was on the floor, but one thing was clear: he’d punched Reiner, and Reiner didn’t look at all happy with it.

***

After Reiner getting socked in the jaw, the night was a blur. As far as he remembered, he remembered pretty much everyone getting kicked out. He remembered a lot of cabs being called, but Reiner, despite drinking more than any of them, ended up driving Bertolt home to his dingy apartment. Then Bertl woke up with a splitting headache.

God, he felt awful. He yawned, then nearly gagged on his own breath. He stretched, then realized he was still wearing yesterday’s clothing. He pulled his shirt off, stumbling off the mattress from the floor. He glanced at his alarm clock on the way to the dresser, realizing that if today wasn’t an off-day he’d be late for work. He turned the lights on to his kitchen, and immediately felt a stab of pain from his headache. Now squinting, he stumbled around in search of the coffee machine. It looked like there was still some inside the basin, so he just pressed the power button and let it repeat.

He sat down at the table, waiting for his coffee to be ready and opened his laptop. He quickly went to check the news.

His headache still throbbed, but he needed to check and see if there was anything that would stop him from getting any errands run.

Sure enough, there was a bright red alert on the website’s homepage.

TITAN SPOTTED ON 47th AVE LAST NIGHT.

ROADS CLOSED, BUILDINGS DESTROYED.

That was usual with the Titan’s attacks. But there was something about 47th ave that was bugging him. What was on it? He was certain he didn’t he didn’t have any friends on 47th ave…

He remembered that he still needed to put a shirt on, so staggered out of his chair and went back into his tiny bedroom. He pulled off his undershirt, realizing that he shouldn’t have worn that overnight, and slipped on a blue tee over his chest. He looked down and grimaced, but realized he’d worn that undershirt for at least 24 hours yesterday so he needed a break. Today might’ve been a good time to get it washed.

His mind started wandering. 24 times 2 is 48… His mind jumped over to when Reiner was driving home, and he mentioned that he lived on 48th ave… 48 was close to 47…

Then it hit him.

Reiner’s place could’ve been destroyed. He had to check, but how? Bertl’s stomach felt tight from both sickness and anxiety as he reached into his pocket for his cell. His fingers slipped on a piece of paper, which fluttered to the ground when he pulled his phone out. Limbs sore, he crouched over and picked up the slip of paper.

It was a phone number?

_If you ever wanna hang out, here’s my number._ It was signed with Reiner’s name, too… But why would Reiner give Bertolt his number? Still, he wanted to make sure that Reiner was ok. He barely knew the guy, but now that Titan was a legitimate concern, it was now commonplace to call anyone who lived close to a Titan attack. He pursed his lips and dialled the number on the phone.

After a few rings, it appeared to pick up. “Hello?”

He was cut off by a pre-recorded Reiner saying in a bright tone, “Hey, you’ve reached Reiner Braun. I’m currently unavailable, either because of work or because of personal projects, but you can leave a message and I should be able to get back to you.” There was a pause, and Bertolt waited for a beep, but then it continued. “And I’m serious guys, Titan hasn’t destroyed my house. Thanks for the concern but I’m fine.”

Then, it beeped. Bertl didn’t say anything for a second, still wondering if Reiner was really ok, but then just sighed and hung up.

For only knowing Reiner for less than a day, Bertolt seemed to care a lot about his wellbeing. He wished it wasn’t the case, but decided to just try and continue on with his morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize for the long wait with this chapter! It falls out of the average updating times, which will probably be far more consistent from now on.

Bertolt thought it was a quiet day. Nothing had happened so far. All he had heard was the monotonous sound of the printer running and his fingers tapping the keys. Ymir and Christa hadn’t done anything, and even Jean and Eren hadn’t shouted. It was strange, almost. Bertolt could almost focus.

“Hey, Bertolt?”Bertolt was shook from his work with a voice he hadn’t heard yet. Bertolt jolted his head up to see that blonde from the bar. His hair was still in that waterfall braid, but his face wasn’t near as flushed as it was jut a few nights ago.

Wasn’t his name Armin? Bertolt smiled and instinctively switched to another tab, even though he had nothing to hide. “Yeah?” he asked. He got out of his chair and made a mock salute. “You need anything?”

Armin shook his head. “Um… actually… I was going to ask if you wanted a coffee? You haven’t asked since you started working here and I honestly never even see you head out for lunch and…” He trailed off. “Are you a coffee person?”

Bertl nodded, realizing that his eyes were heavier than he thought. He rubbed his eyes and flashed a quick apologetic grin. “Sure?” he said. “I can grab some myself, though…”

Armin was now flushed as he shook his head and made dismissive motions. “No! Don’t worry about it, I was just heading there myself and thought it’d be nice to get you something, you know?”

Bertolt nodded, unsure whether or not he should sit back down in his chair. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem?” Armin said. He hesitated a few seconds, then bolted out of the doorway to Bertolt’s cubicle. He took a sec before sliding back into his chair, where he had to reposition his legs to stop them from buckling against the bottom of his desk.

His legs were at an awkward angle, where they had to touch the sides of the desk and his back had to hunch in order to be at eye level with his document. To say the least, this was one of those times where he hated being tall. He got back to work, opening the tab he had and getting back to work on the document he was supposed to be editing.

Who wrote this? He scrolled back to the top to see which of the journalists wrote this “article,” if it could even be called that. Connie? Bertolt hoped that he’d get a proper spelling lesson soon. He was supposed to be editing for content, not proofreading for basic errors.

At least he was on the last page… He scrolled back down to the bottom, taking mental notes of the paragraphs’ topics. For a guy who couldn’t spell, Connie’s article was surprisingly coherent, content-wise. Bertolt smiled as he finished off the last sentence then realized that Connie had missed an oxford comma somewhere a few sentences back. He hunted around for it and quickly typed one in.

He started back at the top, and just did another read-through. Before he was done half, Armin came back in.

“Hey, I’m back,” he said quietly. Bertl looked away from his screen to see him holding a mug with steaming black liquid coming out of it. He was barely holding it at the edges, like he didn’t want to get burnt. “Here.” Armin bit his lip as he placed it on the desk slowly, his face reddening as a bit spilled over the edge. “Heck,” he muttered.

Bertl started to get secondhand embarrassment for Armin, but not because ehe was angry at him. “No, it’s fine,” he said. “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.” He started rubbing at the spill with his blue sweater. “Don’t worry, Armin, I’ve got it…”

“Alright,” he said, grimacing. “If you say so…”

Bertl finished scrubbing, then wiped the bottom of the mug. “Thanks again, Armin…” He looked up and noticed that Armin had already disappeared. “I guess…”

He slide his coffee to the side of his keyboard, and got back to rereading his edits. Everything looked good, so he saved the file down and set them to print. He’d bring it over to connie to discuss the changes, then see if it was ready to be submitted. He didn’t even know who was the head editor-slash-compilator for these. He just knew he was supposed to be the editor for the individual articles.

He heard the “general use” printer come to life, so Bertolt got out of his chair, took a deep swig of coffee, and went over to the break room.

He was made painfully aware that he was working through lunch hour when he saw ten different people stare at him.

“He comes out of his cave?” Bertl heard Connie and Sasha whisper.

“Hi, Bertolt!” Marco said, waving his freckled hands. He got off of the grey couch he was sitting on and shook Bertl’s hand. You haven’t been out here, have you?”

Bertolt shook his head, taking a big swig of his coffee. “I’m just here to show Connie something,” he said as he took long strides towards the printer.

“It’s lunch break, though,” Connie said.

Bertl found his way in the corner, where he pulled the pages off the landing tray as soon as they were printed. “I just wanna show you my edits to your article.”

“Come on, Bertl.” Bertl twisted around to see Reiner scoot over to make space on the couch he was lounging on. “Just take some time off.”

Bertl shrugged as he sorted the pages back into order. “I’m fine. I can get onto those manuscripts now that I’ve got this done.”

“No, come on!” Bertl looked up at Reiner, who’d clearly made space for him. “Connie’s not going to budge until one, so you might as well.”

Bertl sighed, swiping his bang to the side. “I…” He sighed again. “It doesn’t matter, then. Guess I’ll stay.” He hunted around for a desk to put the article on. He slid the paper on, then twisted around to see Connie laying upside-down on the couch. “You can read this any time, by the way.”

“Uh-huh.”

Bertl sat down beside Reiner, already feeling himself stiffen and hunching over his cup of coffee. He remembered the events of the night at the bar, Titan attack included. “Shit,” he whispered beneath his breath before tilting his head to inspect Reiner. He looked alright enough. Was it going to be embarrassing if he asked about whether Reiner was okay? He hoped it wouldn’t. “So… Reiner?” he asked, sipping his coffee. He noticed it was getting empty. Already his toes were digging into the bottoms of his shoes. “About that Titan attack the other day. I’m sorry it was so close to where you lived…”

To that, he heard Jean start to snicker. “Wait, what’s wrong with that?” he asked, too quickly for anyone to really catch.

“Reiner’s got the devil’s luck when it comes to Titan attacks. Honestly? All of them happen close to where he lives. I’m amazed his apartment hasn’t been destroyed yet!”

“I wish it’d happen, to be honest,” Bertolt heard Eren mutter. He noticed that Reiner and Eren were on opposite sides of the lounge, and at they were throwing daggers at each other with their eyes. Even Jean seemed good-humoured compared to them.

“Then nevermind,” Bertl said. “How’s your jaw?”

Bertl checked for himself, staring at Reiner’s jaw for longer than he’d like to admit. It was perfectly healed. There wasn’t even a bruise.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t need Lionhead 2.0.” He made a dismissive motion with his hand in front of Bertolt’s eyes. Bertolt’s attention changed to Eren’s angry mutters.

It was awkward for a while. Everyone that was at the bar was in the lounge now, and it looked like they wanted to say something. He checked the clock every now and then to see if it would change. It seemed to go very slowly.

Nobody said a word the entire time. Even Sasha and Connie were quiet. When the clock hit one, Bertl got up and shuffled to the door. “Alright Connie, read that article and tell me if you want me to change anything?” He took his now-empty mug and held it against his chest to make sure it didn’t fall.

Before he could even get to the doorway, it seemed like Reiner jumped in front of him. Bertl stiffened as he was grabbed, and lifted up like he was nothing. “Actually, about that,” Reiner said, then gave an over-exaggerated grunt as he put Bertl back on the couch. “We wanted to talk about that.”

Bertl stiffened even more, his limbs squishing closer to his body, like a turtle. “Yeah?” he asked. “I didn’t do anything, though.” He stared up at Reiner, his face flushing with embarrassment. “Wait, what did I do?”

“Actually, it’s about what you don’t do,” Connie singsonged.

Bertl looked around wildly to see the expressions on the others’ face. Everyone looked determined except for Marco, who looked uncomfortable with the whole situation.

“Then what didn’t I do?” He could feel himself “turtling” more with every second. God, this was embarrassing. He wished Reiner or someone would just tell him.

“You don’t hang out with us enough,” Reiner said, pursing his lips. “And we’re going to fix that.” Bertl watched as Sasha ran to the door and locked it.

“How?” Bertl asked.

“Here!” Connie said, then ran across the lounge and gave Bertl a laptop. “This is mine, and just so you know We’ve all cleared out our work for the day so we can watch you working or you can hang out with us. So which will it be, Birdy-boy?”

Bertl opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “I can’t log in to your account. My files are on--“

“We’re all on the same network. Your login will show up. But you really wanna have people watching you while you work?”

Bertl felt even his forehead go red. “Fine!” he sputtered, shutting the laptop and putting it on his lap. “I get it. I’ll hang out here.”

To that, he was met with a pat on the back from Reiner. “Good. Welcome to the fun dungeon. We all hope you have a good day here.”

Oh, Bertl already knew he was going to regret this.

***

“I’m… um…” Bertolt struggled for what words to say. “I’m really not good with social situations.” This was giving him more anxiety than he had in a month. He didn’t want to admit it. He knew it was starting to show, though.

“We thought that,” Reiner said airily. “I mean, what other reasons are there? We don’t stink that much.”

“And I didn’t get out of my cubicle until Ymir pulled me out of it.” Bertolt noticed that Ymir and that blonde that followed her around were also here.

“We all know that’s not how it went,” Ymir said, starting to grin. She put her arm over the girl’s head.

She was already becoming hopelessly flustered. Her cheeks were bright pink and the flush was spreading to even her forehead. “No really, that’s exactly how it happened. I don’t remember it going any differently—“

“Christa, you brought an entire pie to work and weren’t going to share it.”

Bertolt couldn’t help but let his jaw hang. She was barely at eye-level with Ymir’s chest. How could such a tiny girl eat that much? He found it amazing, to be honest.

“That’s not what happened!” she said.

“Sure.” Ymir rolled her eyes, arm sliding off of Christa’s head.

“To be fair, I had a pretty bad experience getting out into the office too,” Marco said. “Jean pestered me the entire day.”

That was all? Bertolt felt like he was getting stared at even more. “Um,” that’s col,” he said. “Wait, not cool, I meant—“

“Calm down, it’s fine.” Jean shrugged. “It’s just something we do around here.”

“Ok.” Bertolt looked down at his hands, which were shaking. “I wish Jace was here,” he said, feeling his hands clench each other. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead.

“Who’s Jace?” he heard Reiner ask.

Bertl stiffened. “He was my boyfriend,” he said. “He knew how to deal with these kinda things. He did… a lotta talking, I guess?”

He looked up, grinning at the memory of Jace’s warm face, but only saw shocked faces. “What?” he asked. He felt his voice take on a particularly girlish swing.

“You’re gay?” Armin asked finally.

Like he was uncomfortable, Connie reached for the article Bertl had printed out.

Shit. Bertl forgot how well he passed now. Before taking T, it was only gay in his head to have liked Jace. Now, it was pretty publicly gay. “Um, damn it… yes… yes, I’m gay.” Bertl felt his face warm even more than before. He screwed up. He buried his face into his hands, clawing at his forehead. “I didn’t mean to say that.” He turtled even more than he had minutes before.

“It’s… it’s okay, man…” he heard Jean say. “It’s cool that you trust us enough to say that.”

“But I don’t!” Bertl said. “It slipped out because I forgot to filter myself! I’m an idiot!”

“No, you’re not,” Reiner said. “You’re not filtering because we’re forcing you into this.”

Bertolt hung his head, hands still seemingly glued to it. “Just don’t tell anyone I said this, okay?”

“Sure.” There was a pause before he heard Reiner again. “We’re keeping this a secret, ok? Eren? You too.”

“Just because you’re an ass doesn’t mean I’m going to tell anyone about _Bertolt’s_ secret, mmkay?” There was another pause. The air felt thick with Bertolt’s discomfort. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

There was a small choruses of “safes.” Bertl felt less embarrassed, but he still fucked up bigtime. He could have said that in front of his parents. His resolve was that weak. He could’ve risked losing what little support he had from his family. He’d probably have been called a disappointment to Marcel or something. Banned from family dinners or outings.

He felt his throat tighten. What if these people were someone else? He didn’t even trust these guys, but at least they seemed like they weren’t going to beat him after the workday ended.

“These are pretty good edits, Bertolt…” he heard Connie mutter.

Bertl didn’t look up in case his eyes were red. His hands felt wet, but his eyes didn’t sting. He wasn’t sure if he was crying or not, but wasn’t going to risk revealing himself if he was.

“I’ve gotta go,” Reiner said. He gave a light pat to Bertolt’s shoulder. “You’re safe with us, man. Kay?”

Bertl tilted his head so he could barely see through his hands. “Thanks,” was all he could say.

The door opened and shut. A second later, a phone started to ring.

“That’s me,” Ymir said. He heard two pairs of footsteps leaving. One was barely audible, but the other (probably Ymir’s) stormed like thunder.

He heard the couch on the other side of the lounge squeak as someone got off. “These are really good, man. Think you can do some more articles for me? I’ve got one written today, too.”

Bertolt nodded. “Sure,” he said, realizing how breathy his voice sounded.

“Thanks, man. Sorry that this happened.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the other side of the room. “Thanks, birdy-boy.” Connie seemed to leave too as the door opened and shut.

“We probably wrecked a pretty cool experience for you, didn’t we?” he heard Marco ask. At least, he thought it was Marco. He seemed to have the Prairies accent that nobody else in the room seemed to have.

“Well, you don’t have to stay anymore,” Jean said.

Bertolt nodded, but felt grounded to the spot.

With that, two more pairs of footsteps left the room. Bertl felt glad that there were even less people watching him. Then there was another pair, leaving one person left in the room.

“Hey, Bertolt,” a soft voice said. “I’m sorry we all got so shocked. We just didn’t expect it.”

“Thanks,” Bertolt said. “I didn’t expect it either.” Hoping his eyes were dry now, he looked up to see Armin with a small, reassuring smile on his face. His bright blue eyes were alight, though.

“We were honestly terrible back there.”

It only happened minutes ago.

“All I wanna say is that I’m glad there’s someone else here, too.”

Bertl stopped. “What?” He jerked his head up to stare up at Armin’s glowing face. He looked like an angel now.

“Nobody knows, though, so I’m just really, really glad to have you. If you need to talk…” he sighed.

“Hey guys!” Jean called. “There’s a Titan attack going on right now!”

Bertolt stiffened. “What?” he asked, yet again. He wiped his eyes with his wrists and pulled himself up.

“You can talk to me any time, that’s all,” Armin said quickly before running out of the room. Bertolt followed close behind.

“Where is it?” he heard Marco ask.

“Out on 90th.” Jean replied.

That was his street. He lived there. “Oh my god,” Bertolt said instinctively. “I live there.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. “I’ve got to go!”

“Wait, don’t!” Armin said, grabbing at Bertolt’s blue sweater sleeve.

He didn’t hesitate as he twisted around and pushed the smaller boy off of his arm. “I’ve got to. Ok?”

He didn’t wait for an answer or grab his jacket as he ran through the door.

When he got to where he lived, he found the entire apartment building utterly destroyed.


	4. Chapter 4

He couldn’t believe it. Bertolt stood where his apartment building used to be. It was nothing but a pile of concrete. Broken furniture legs stuck out from the pile. Rubble hung from broken beams of wood. Small pieces of the building still stood, in spires of steel that were half-broken.

It smelled like gas, he realized. He stepped back, almost stumbling on a pipe he didn’t realize was there. He bit his lip, his throat tightening.

Why him? How?

“Titan’s…” he whispered. His attacks were always halfway across town. He felt himself shaking. This shouldn’t have happened? In the light of day? Why him?

The ground shook. Bertolt stiffened when the sound came soon after. A block of broken concrete fell from a beam and clattered onto the ground. His breath quickened. Was he still here? How? Where were the police? They had to be getting to the scene, right?

He remembered watching the police trying to attack him the first time and remembered why they weren’t here. They were destroyed. The death toll had reached forty within the first minutes of fighting. He was going to be one of those dead, wasn’t he? He felt his heart thudding in his chest, his wrists, his ears.

The stomping got louder, and Bertolt ran for cover beneath the decimated building.

More blocks of concrete fell around him, and he covered his head with a broken table. He felt his entire body shake, and then there it was. Down the street, he could see a massive, sand-coloured foot. Then another. Bertolt looked up to see a sixty-foot-tall person. He was covered head-to-toe in what looked lie stone. His face was separated by a serrated jaw.

He froze, feeling goosebumps form on his skin. His hands shook as he clenched his sweater. He was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to die.

He stared at the glowing golden eyes of the titan, and saw his head tilt down. It seemed like he was staring at Bertolt. He tried to quit his shaking hands as he felt his fingers puncture through the knit holes. He only gripped tighter, fingertips digging into his palms. “Don’t kill me,” he whispered so quietly he couldn’t hear it.

Titan blinked, the light in his eyes going out then coming back. His breath hitched for just a second before he saw Titan twist around and charge down the street. He disappeared behind an alley, his head no longer visible. Bertolt took a deep breath, waiting for what felt like minutes before crawling out from beneath the table. His limbs hurt. They were still shaking.

He remembered he was standing in the wreckage where his apartment used to be and his breath caught again. Fuck. He was homeless now, wasn’t he? He could probably call his parents? Ask for a few sick days while he worked things out?

He tried to be optimistic but it wasn’t working.

His parents wouldn’t let him step foot on their porch, let alone let him in their house. It wasn’t worth even calling them.

Tears threatened his eyes. He let them come, his face twisting downwards. He sat down on the ground, unable to stand anymore. This shouldn’t have happened. It never should have. He was everywhere Titan wouldn’t be! So then why did he do it to _his_ _home_?

“Bertolt!” he heard someone say. He took a shuddering breath and looked up. Reiner was in full winter gear, his scarf covering his face enough that only his eyes and a patch of blond hair showed through. “Are you ok?”

“I…” he looked down at his hands and the tears that were starting to freeze onto them. “I don’t know.”

Why was he here? He tried to get up, but his legs were so shaky he got onto his knees.

“I saw the news,” Reiner said breathlessly. His boots crunched in the dust and snow as he ran over to Bertolt. “Is this your place?” he asked. His face was strained, his brows knit together and lips pursed.

He didn’t say anything, just nodded.

“Shit man,” he said then got down to Bertolt’s level. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. His breaths sounded like they were stuttering every time he inhaled. Why him, why him, why him?

The sounds of police vehicles finally started to reach Bertolt’s ears, piercing through his thoughts. “We’ve gotta go now, Bertl. If we’re here, they’ll…” He paused, and Bertolt heard him stand up with a grunt. “They’ll think one of us is Titan or some shit.”

Who else could there be? Bertolt tried to get up on his own, but started to fall over. He was picked up by Reiner, who took his arm over his shoulder. “You can’t stand?”

Bertolt shrugged and tried again. Again he fell.

“I understand, but why now man? Cry later!” He started to pace away from the scene with Bertolt around him. He felt so useless as just dead weight, but Reiner was carrying him without any effort. He was _fast,_ too. Bertolt had to make quick, halfhearted steps to avoid falling.

“Listen,” Reiner said as he twisted a corner. “I think the fastest way out is this way, right?”

Bertolt shook his head. The fastest way was the other way around, but he didn’t want to run into police. If what Reiner said was right, they’d question them immediately. The evidence would overwhelmingly be against them, too.

“My car’s this way, right?” he heard Reiner say underneath his breath. They’d probably moved blocks away by now and probably wouldn’t be seen as suspect. Bertolt could see a suburb a few blocks ahead. “Yeah… this looks familiar.”

“Can we slow down?” Bertolt finally asked, tripping on a speed-bump that he hadn’t noticed was there. “We’re far enough, right?”

Reiner twisted over to look at Bertl, and he tried to grimace in response. He sighed, slowing down until he finally stopped. “That sounds like a good idea,” he said.

Bertolt put more weight on his feet, and though he was still shaking, he could at least stand on his own. They walked for a while on the sidewalks. The snow was pressed down enough that he couldn’t tell if there was any snow on it. He heaved a sigh.

He would’ve been fucked if Reiner didn’t save him. They would’ve found him, and Bertolt wouldn’t have anything to defend himself. “Thanks,” he said. He brushed the dust off of his jacket.

“What for?” Reiner asked.

“Coming to get me,” Bertl said, feeling his legs quit shaking. He felt safer now. “Without you, they would’ve caught me and I’d probably be in jail for the rest of my life.”

“Caught you?” Reiner said, raising a brow. “Is there… something I should know?” His voice went dead quiet, his brown eyes flickering.

Bertl realized his bad wording too late. “No! I’m just… I’m the only one there, and they’d have taken one look at me and I’d be -- “ He was getting too defensive, but he hadn’t done anything. He knew it.

“Relax, Bertl,” Reiner said. He brushed some rubble off his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said that. Especially ‘cuz your place is… fuckin’ wrecked now, isn’t it?”

Bertolt let out a dry laugh, then coughed on dust that had gotten into his mouth. “Fucking wrecked about sums it up,” he said. He felt his throat tightening. “Shit…” he whispered. His place was destroyed, but he couldn't help but remember that now he had to go refill his T prescription. And the only binder he had was the one he'd had on right now.

“Shit what?” Reiner asked, lowering his voice as they entered the suburb. “And if you see a silver Cruze around here, then point it out to me. I’ve kinda forgotten where I parked it.”

“My place is wrecked,” Bertl said quietly, taking in the site of all the pristine, untouched homes around him. Some of the sidewalks were shovelled, but most hadn’t been yet.

“You don’t have anyone you can call?” Reiner asked. “An aunt, your parents?”

Bertolt winced.

“Oh yeah,” Reiner said. “You said something happened in the family, right?”

Pursing his lips, he nodded.

“It wasn’t because of you…” he paused and sighed, “coming out, right?”

It was. He started walking faster, pulling his hoodie over his head.

“Sorry.” Reiner caught up to him quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine,” Bertl said, but even he noticed he had a cooler edge to his voice.

They walked in silence. Presumably looking for his car, Reiner kept his head up. He twisted around every so often.

“About your place…” Reiner said.

Police sirens rang in the distance, and he heard firetrucks closely behind. He remembered the danger they posed for now and felt a cold sweat start to break out. “Yeah?” he asked.

“You can crash at mine until you work something out?” He sighed. “I don’t know. I want to help, but don’t know if I can, y’know?”

Bertl looked out to the snowy suburb. “I’m…”

“Bertl, I’ve already got Lionhead at my place. I’m sure I can handle you.”

“It’s not that!” He clenched his fists. “It’s just…” He struggled for words. He wanted to be near Reiner. He wanted to be safe and beside him, just like he was now. He wanted to stay with him, but living with him? It almost felt too fast. He sighed. “Sure I’ll stay with you,” he said quickly. “But only until I find a new place,” he said.

Reiner smiled. “Alright, man-- aha!” he said, pointing to his car. “I knew I hadn’t lost it!” He ran off the sidewalk and to his car. “Let’s get outta here?”

Bertl hesitated as Reiner opened his car and started it. He shuffled through the semi-deep snow and opened the passenger door. “Thanks,” he said. He closed the door and crunched into the seat. His legs could barely fit underneath the dash.

“No problem,” he said. “You should adjust the seat. Lionhead’s like five-foot-nothing so the seat’s way up front.”

Bertl nodded, reaching to the side and looking for seat adjusters. “No really. Thanks for everything,” he said as he felt the seat pulling itself back. “For the place, for getting me away from the cops…”

“No problem. But if Titan wrecks my place, are you chill with letting me and Annie crash at your place?”

Bertl blinked. “Sure. Annie?”

“Lionhead, sorry.” Reiner turned the car and pulled it out of the parallel park. He kept on driving. “We aren’t that much of a hassle. Annie on the other hand might kill your fridge by the time we’re back from work!” He laughed at his own joke, and Bertl couldn’t help joining in. His laugh was raspier, drier, bittersweet.

Reiner quieted down. “Sorry. Work or home? You can call Commander and explain if you need to.”

He thought for a second. “My laptop’s at work, and I don’t need that until tomorrow…” He didn’t want to talk to the other folks at work.

Today was a disaster.

“Let’s go to your place,” he said finally, letting his hands unclench.

“Alright,” he said. “You need some rest.”

He sighed. “Yeah,” he said. Tonight, he’d let his thoughts sort out. Tomorrow, he had to get back to house-hunting, not to mention that he’d have to meet everyone’s eyes again. He didn’t know how he was going to deal with that… “Thanks again,” he said, leaning back onto the headrest.

“No problem,” Reiner said. “We’ve gotta look out for each-other, right?”

Bertl nodded. Reiner _was_ right.


	5. Chapter 5

Bertl never thought that Reiner would live in such a classy-looking apartment building. As they walked through the halls, Bertl couldn’t help but notice the smooth carpeting, the lights that hung like lanterns and were just as fire-like in their warmth. He almost felt at home here, but at the same time missed the cool, dim lighting that his own place gave him. It felt more familiar, even though here was far more comfortable already.

“Hey man, I’m sorry.”

Bertl pulled his attention away from a painting that hung on the wall. “What for?”

“About that Titan attack. It shouldn’t have happened.”

Bertl sighed, remembering the sight of his apartment in shambles, indistinguishable from the rest of them. “You didn’t do it. Don’t be sorry.”

Reiner quieted down. Bertl looked down onto Reiner’s shoulders and noticed his shirt was actually much nicer than he’d first thought. His eyes traced his neck to his hairline. Reiner’s hair almost seemed to bounce with every step. He smiled inwardly at the sight.

Reiner stopped abruptly, and Bertl stumbled over him. Luckily, although Reiner was shorter, he was definitely more sturdy than him. Bertl fell to the side into the wall while Reiner barely stumbled.

“Sorry,” he said as he tried to right himself. He pulled a lock of his dark hair out of his eyes. “I tripped.”

Reiner pulled out his wallet, then a card from it. “You ok?” He twisted around, eyes alight.

“I’m fine,” he replied. He smiled to try and reassure Reiner. He squared his shoulders and stood up back to his full height. He didn’t mean to worry Reiner, if Reiner was even worried.

Reiner’s frown dissipated as he turned back to his door. Bertl heard a click as the card slid in, then Reiner twisted the doorknob and opened it. Reiner held the door open for Bertl, and he ducked into the doorway. The place was huge. Bertl stepped into an entry way, which in his apartment was just the kitchen with a closet near the door. He waited for Reiner to pull his shoes off so he could figure out where to put them. “Welcome to my home, I guess,” Reiner said. He pulled his own boots off and then put them on a boot rack. “Sorry it isn’t much…”

Bertl shook his head in amazement as they walked into the living room. “How many square feet is this?” he muttered.

“About 1200. It’s not that much, really. Especially when you’ve got someone else over.” Reiner shrugged his jacket off and slung it on a leather couch.

That was still nearly double the size of his apartment. Who knew that Reiner was able to afford this? He thought that Reiner would at least be similar to him, with a tiny apartment. But it _did_ explain why Reiner was able to buy him drinks at the karaoke bar.

“Oh,” Bertl said finally.

“Take your hoodie off if you wanna. Just toss it on the couch,” he said airily. “I mean, usually Annie’s chilling on it but I don’t know _where_ she is…”

Bertl nodded slowly. He took his hoodie off, realizing how warm it was in here. He slumped his shoulders near-unconsciously to cover his chest, even though his binder should’ve been working correctly. It was a habit he picked up years ago as a way to cope. And even if he did have a chest, he looked and sounded masculine enough that it would only be seen as pecs. He was constantly thankful for that.

“Gimme a sec, Bertl. Lemme find her. Annie!” He called, leaving the living room and disappearing into a hallway.

“Hey, Reiner, you’re home already?” Bertl heard someone say from another room, probably the kitchen. He twisted around as he heard a door creak open and a short woman came out of a bedroom. She was in a pair of short shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top. Her hair was tied up in a towel, but strands of blonde hung down. He found himself staring, but then turned his head as soon as he realized. _She just got out of the shower, you creep!_ He said to himself.

“Who’re you?” the woman asked, pulling her shirt up to cover her collarbones. She was only at chest-level to Bertl, so he had to look down to see her.

“I’m Bertolt Hoover,” he said calmly. “S-Sorry for startling you,” he said quickly, feeling his cheeks flush.

“It’s chill. You’re with Reiner, right?” she asked, making nearly-frightening eye contact with Bertl. She stared at him with menacing, bright blue eyes until Bertl had to look away.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Ayy Annie! So you’ve met Bertl here?” Bertl heard Reiner nearly run into the room and take Bertl by the shoulders.

“Actually, I haven’t,” Annie deadpanned, cocking a brow at Bertl. “Why’s he here?”

“Ah...” Reiner said, taking in a deep sigh through clenched teeth. “Bertl didn’t tell you?”

Bertl stared at him. What was he going to say? Oh hi, I’m Bertolt Hoover and my house was destroyed by Titan so Reiner’s letting me stay here. Hi! That sounded so damn weird. He wished it didn’t, but alas.

“Tell me what? You guys are going to be having a sleepover? You’re like 25, Rein.” She grabbed the towel and pulled it off her hair, letting a damp mop of blond hair fall in front of her face.

“That’s...” Bertl said, his hands clenching. “That’s kinda what it is actually...”

“What?” Annie said. “Nevermind. You guys do what you guys wanna do.” She twisted around.

“I’m actually going to stay here for a while...” Bertl said just as Annie started to walk back into the bedroom, presumably hers.

She froze. “Reiner,” she said with an edge. “We’ve got to discuss this sort of stuff.”

“My apartment,” Reiner said, shrugging. And I mean, after you, there’s not much else I can do, right?”

Annie glared icicles at him, and Bertl had to step back. “Why’s he staying for a while? He paying rent?”

“You aren’t,” Reiner shot back, and Bertl stepped back again until the backs of his legs ran into the couch. This wasn’t the time to talk.

“Well, why’s he staying? I thought this was just our place!”

Bertl raised a finger to say something, but Reiner already started. “His house got kicked down by Titan.” Reiner’s hand flew to his hips. “It’s not like he has anywhere else to go.”

“His parents’ place?” she said. She didn’t sound angry, but Bertl could feel the balefulness off of her every word. He felt like he wasn’t welcome here, and he was probably right.

Reiner hesitated, putting his hand to the back of his head. He seemed speechless for a few seconds, before Bertl cut in. “They live out in the country and I’ve still gotta work.”

Well, that was at least half the truth. He grimaced inwardly, hoping that Annie was able to deal with that as an excuse. Bertl noticed as she inspected him.

“Well that’s pretty crappy,” Annie said without any emotion to her voice. “I guess that’s that, then.” She twisted to Reiner, still holding her tank top up to her collarbones. “I guess you’ve got no other choice, hey Bethany.”

Bertl cringed at the name. “Bertolt, please…”

“Fine, sonny boy. But first thing’s first.” She pointed her thumb behind her. “That’s my room. You ain’t touching it, kay?”

Bertl nodded. “Got it.” He could feel his shoulders stiffening already at the short girl’s command.

“Good to hear. Welcome to the Braun-Leonhardt apartment. Don’t slack off as much as I do or I’ll have to deal with you accordingly, kay?” She punched her palm, then threw a smile that Bertl couldn’t tell was sincere or threatening.

“Yes,” he said quietly, leaning back into the couch.

“Good. Have fun.” She opened the door to her bedroom and slammed it shut, so Bertl couldn’t follow even if he wanted.

“Damn,” Bertl said after a pause. She was _terrifying._

“Yeah. She could’ve at least been a bit nicer. I mean, your house got destroyed...” Reiner sighed again. “You want some coffee?” Reiner started walking from the living room into the kitchen. Bertl followed, again ducking into the doorway.

Bertl shook his head, black hair falling into his eyes. He was still twitching from the coffee that Armin had gotten him back at lunch break. “No thanks,” he said. “What time is it?”

Reiner shrugged. “About four.”

Bertl gawked. It had only been one when he was locked in the staff room earlier that day. Now it was four? Where had the time gone?

“I can probably still make it to work to grab my stuff...” Bertl said. He wanted to be able to do something here, now that he thought about it. Reiner was plenty welcoming, but Bertl didn’t want to bother him. It’d be more comfortable to at least have his laptop.

“You’ll get caught in rush hour traffic. You’ve only got your laptop there, right?”

Bertl stared up at the ceiling. That can’t have been all. He then remembered his black winter coat still hanging up at the office. “Well, I’ve still got my coat there.”

To that, Reiner laughed. “Jesus, man! How many layers do you wear?”

Bertl shrugged, his head sinking into his shoulders in embarrassment. “I don’t know,” he said. He really did know, but didn’t want to tell Reiner. “I guess that I get cold quickly.” To finish the hasty lie off, he shivered. In reality, he was overly self-conscious he wouldn’t pass well without looking like a paper-bag prince (princess? He hoped not.)

“Ah, that makes sense,” Reiner said with a small smile. “I get cold pretty easily too.” He ran his hand through his short blonde hair, the locks spiking up as soon as his hand left it.

“You don’t mind if I turn up the thermostat, then?” he asked.

Bertl shrugged, not really caring. “You don’t need to,” he said. “I’ve got a hoodie if I get cold…” And an undershirt under his dress shirt. And a binder underneath that.

“Mmkay,” Reiner said. “You got anything to keep yourself busy?” he asked after a few seconds of staring at the ceiling.

Bertl shrugged. “My phone, I guess. You?” He paused, realizing that sounded a lot like flirting. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t want to creep Reiner out. “I mean, it’s your place, right?”

Reiner smiled and sighed, yet again. He looked so peaceful with his square jaw set like that. He leaned back against the counter, his muscles straining as he heaved himself onto it. “I’ve got some movies. Netflix if you wanna.” He shrugged. “I dunno. Usually I’m so tired when I get back I just hit the hay.”

Bertl shifted his weight to his other foot and brushed his black hair out of his face. “A movie sounds alright. What do you like?”

Reiner shrugged again, and for only being a few inches shorter than Bertl at around six feet tall, somehow seemed short when he shrugged. “It depends. Cooking shows are great. Anything really violent. Nothing too nasty though. I don’t care,” he said finally. “You’re the guest, why don’t you pick?”

Bertl pursed his lips. He was never all that decisive, and he didn’t think that Reiner would even remotely like Bertl’s pick in movies. He didn’t like gory movies. But he could work with a cooking show. “Let’s pick the cheesiest cooking show we can find?” he asked. He liked laughing at things because they were genuinely weird or bad, rather than actually hurting someone, and right now he needed to unwind.

Reiner nodded. “Sure. Need something to get your mind off things, eh?” His face darkened. “I can relate to that a lot, y’know… Nevermind, let’s get set up, eh?”

“Yeah.” Bertl trailed behind Reiner back into the living room, where he picked up a remote and turned on a large flatscreen on the wall above a fireplace. Again, Bertl couldn’t help but marvel at how much money must have gone into furnishing this place.

Reiner turned on the Netflix app on the TV, then sat down on the couch. He patted the cushion, inviting Bertl to sit down. He did, and found Reiner putting his arm around him.

“Again, sorry about the house,” Reiner muttered.

“Don’t be.”

They flicked through the cooking shows until Bertl’s eyes caught on one that looked like it had 100$ an episode for a budget. They read the synopsis, and Bertl couldn’t help but laugh. A show about how badly they can make something with professional chefs as judges?

“Oh my God,” Reiner said, suppressing a laugh. “We gotta, right?”

“Yeah,” Bertl said with a grin. Already he could feel his stress melting away in Reiner’s arms.

They flicked the show on. Reiner got up to turn off the lights, then slipped back onto the couch beside Bertl.

Bertl couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like if it was this way forever. Just him and Reiner, thinking about nothing. Nothing was wrong, or at least they’d pretend it was like that. He sighed, looking down at the top of Reiner’s hair. He smiled, then went back to watching his show.

He’d go and look for a house tomorrow, right? He’d have his laptop then so it’d be easier, anyways.

For now, he’d just enjoy life and pretend nothing was wrong. There wasn’t any harm in that, was there?


	6. Chapter 6

Bertl awoke, staring at a soft red ceiling. At first, his mind tried to wrap around the fact that his ceiling was usually a dull gray. A jolt of panic struck him, but it quickly faded away as the rest of his mind woke up.

He was in Reiner's apartment now, not his. Reiner's... He sighed and yawned, his eyes not fully focusing yet. He stretched his long arms out above his head, cracking his knuckles while his arms shook along with the stretch.

He must have fallen asleep while he and Reiner were watching movies, ddin't he. He groaned, both out of exhaustion and embarrassment. He finally pulled himself up onto the couch. His feet hung halfway off the couch and a blanket that had been placed on him? He sat up, shaking as he now stretched his back. What time was it?

The blanket slid off of his legs and chest, falling to the floor. He hunted around the living room for a clock hanging on the wall.

Wait... Bertl went to scratch his back and felt the scrape of nylon against his fingers. He cringed. Again. For the third day in the row. He bit his lips and growled to himself. Couldn't he just bind normally? It was going to be the death of his ribs. Worse, it'd kill his opportunity for top surgery later. He ambled off of the couch, a sharp sting of pain in his ribs as his feet hit the ground.

He probably should've taken it off or at least remembered he was wearing it last night. Guilt tugged at him and he looked for somewhere he could take his binder off. He wished he had something else to wear, but just didn't. He stumbled into the kitchen, where Reiner was sitting with a cup of coffee in his large hands.

"Morning, sunshine," he said before taking another sip.

Bertl really wasn't in the mood for Reiner's banter, but tried to tolerate it anyways. He took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his ribs. "Morning, Reiner." He looked around the meticulously-cleaned kitchen, still hunting for a hallway. Maybe he could use a bathroom to change? "Is there a bathroom anywhere?"

Reiner nodded. "Sure, man. It's just down the hallway next to Annie's room. Be quiet or she'll kill you if you wake her."

Bertl nodded, trying to casually stretch his arms. His skin slid on the nylon, again reminding him that he'd screwed up bad last night. "Thanks, Reiner." He twisted around and went back into the living room, his feet scuffling against the red carpet. He didn't mind the heat coming onto his cold toes, so dragged his feet as he found the hallway. He shuffled along until he found a bathroom. The lights were off, and the door was ajar. He slinked into it, almost desperate to pull the binder off. He couldn't wear it today or he'd probably screw his ribs.

He shut the door and made quick work of pulling his shirt off. His binder was next, but Bertl had to wriggle around in order to unfuse it from his skin. When he pulled it off, he took a deep breath, welcoming the fact he was able to do so without feeling restricted.

He glared at his binder, the black fabric worn from months of use. He had to be more careful with it... He couldn’t wear it for the rest of the day, that was for sure.

He slipped his dress shirt back on and hunched his shoulders. He checked himself in the mirror, making sure that he still appeared somewhat flat-chested. He slouched, both shortening himself by a few inched and effectively draping the shirt over his chest. He’d probably look a lot flatter as soon as he had his hoodie on. He’d still have to go into work though. He pursed his lips. He’d just have to deal with it for the day, wouldn’t he?

He stretched one more time, catlike, before leaving the bathroom and shutting the lights. He made his way back to the kitchen, where he finally saw a clock.

It was only seven… He coulda slept for another twenty minutes. Bertl sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. No use complaining about it now.

Bertl bit his lip. He guessed it was better that he woke up early. He'd be able to get his system up and running properly before he was dumped back in his office chair.

Bertl noticed that Reiner was no longer in the kitchen, and a half-full mug of coffee was left, still steaming. Bertl noticed that it was completely black, and with a look around could see there wasn't any whitener in sight.

Guess he'd pass on the coffee too. He breathed out, rubbing sleep that was still in his eyes. He meandered across the kitchen, hands rubbing on the marble countertops before stopping.

He could hear Reiner and Annie in the living room. Whispers came from the room. He twisted around. He wasn't going to interrupt them, and he certainly wasn't going to eavesdrop.

He sat down at the kitchen table, taking a deep breath before staring uncomfortably at Reiner's coffee. He tried to tune out the words that still filtered in through the hallway. He'd have to grab a toothbrush, some toothpaste... He realized that this was just like when he was kicked out of the house. He needed so many things that he never realized he needed, and all he had was his wallet, a sweater, and a binder to his name. Back then he didn't even have a wallet.

_No. Shake those thoughts away._ Bertl glared at his hands, realizing they were shaking. Whether with anxiety or anger at the memories of his parents, he didn't know. He needed to grab a comb. Definitely some new shirts. Maybe he could deal with just one pair of pants?

"He can't stay long," Annie's voice said, cutting through his thoughts.

Bertl tried to pull himself back into his thoughts as soon as he realized they were talking about him.

“Think he doesn’t know? I practically had to drag him here.”

Bertl winced, but now he’d heard too much. He clenched his fist as he listened to more of their conversation.

“Then why’d you bring him here?”

“Because I feel guilty!” Reiner said.

“For what?”

There was a pause. For a moment Bertl wondered if the conversation had ended, but then Reiner came back, sputtering. “I don’t know! His place got... _decimated_ in that Titan attack.”

“So have hundreds of other peoples',” she said coolly. “You’re not bringing any of them in.”

“Well, he’s a friend! And what about him makes you so uncomfortable anyway?” Bertl looked away from the door. At least Reiner was defending him.

“I don’t know. I just don’t trust him.”

“That’s it? If there’s anyone you shouldn’t trust, it’d be me,” Reiner said, almost growling.

“Why?”

Bertl waited for a response. What was untrustworthy about Reiner? Was there something that he should know? No. It wasn’t his place to know. It was probably a family thing.

The silence went on, before he could hear Reiner growl then stomp out of the living room. Bertl heard him make his way into the kitchen, then he stopped.

Again, another silence. “Hey,” Reiner said finally.

“Hey,” he said, feeling his face flush. He didn’t want Reiner to know he’d been listening in, but he’d been caught now. He kept on staring at the coffee, which was now no longer steaming.

“Sorry about that,” Reiner said finally. He walked past the table and took the coffee up in his hands. He stared down at it, pursing his lips. “Well, better not waste it…” He downed it all, then placed the cup down. “Annie’s not your number one fan, to say the least.”

He could tell that much. He nodded, staring at the space where the mug used to be. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Why should you be?” he asked, heaving another sigh. He opened up the fridge, stared for a second, then closed it. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Bertl trailed off, eyes closing. “It doesn’t matter. I should be able to find a place soon.”

“Don’t worry. Your home is my home.” He opened a cupboard with a creak. Again there was a pause, then closed it. “What was I looking for…? Oh yeah! We should load up. Work’s about a half-hour away.”

Bertl opened his eyes, noticing the clock. They’d have to be there in like 40 minutes. They really should get going. “Is it really that far away?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” Reiner said. “I totally forgot about it.” He twisted around. “I’m ready to go. You?”

He shrugged. As ready as he was going to get. “Yeah.”

“Shall we?” he asked.

He nodded.

“Then let’s go, eh?” he said with a chuckle. “I mean, the sooner we’re there the better, right?”

Bertl nodded again. Reiner just wanted to get out of the house, didn’t he? Well, he just needed to grab his hoodie then he’d be fine. It’d at least hide the fact he didn’t have his binder on. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Let’s go.”

***

Bertl felt like the drive from Reiner’s apartment to the office would take forever. Finally, just as he was about to fall asleep in his seat belt, Reiner turned a corner and put the car to a halt. He waited for a second as Reiner set the car to park. He looked around, hunting for the doorway to the office building. They were... in an alley?

"Hey, Reiner..." he began.

"Yeah?"

There was a parking lot just a block away, if they were actually where Bertl thought they were. "Never mind." Reiner knew what he was doing. He wasn’t going to bug him.

"Aight then." He opened the car door, and Bertl noticed him slipping his keys into his pocket. "Guess we're here. The ride from the Braun-Leonhart household to Renderish Publishing house is complete."

Bertl smiled at the joke, huffing through his nose instead of laughing. "Thanks, Reiner," he said quietly. "Braun-Leonhart?" he asked, frowning. "Aren't you guys siblings?" It was the first thing that came to his head, but he didn't filter it.

"Half-sibs,” he said nonchalantly, stepping out. Bertl opened the door. "Different dads."

"Oh." He got out of the car and closed his door. "Thanks for the ride," Bertl said.

"You're living with me now. What kinda dick move'd it be for me to dump you on the road and tell you to get a bus?" He ran a hand through his golden hair, his short bangs falling back onto his forehead as soon as his hands were off of them.

"Yeah, that'd be pretty cruddy." He got out onto the cracked sidewalk, and noticed that all around him the place was covered in shadows. It was almost like it was night time, but shafts of sunlight still shone on the walls a few stories up and at the edge of the alley. Why were they parked here?

"It's not that hard to say shitty, y'know." Bertl twisted around to see Reiner sauntering into a more sunlit area. "Well never mind that. Come on, my guy. It's not like we've got all day, right?"

"Right..." He stared at the crumbling walls around him before making his way around the car to meet up with Reiner. He noticed they were in an alley just off the street, but they were hidden enough that the car could barely be seen.

"Whoops," he heard Reiner say, before he turned around and pressed a button on his keys. The doors clicked shut and the tail lights flickered before leaving the car in total darkness. "Almost forgot." He put a hand over his head and smiled, though it looked strangely forced. Another forced chuckle, then Reiner twisted back around before mixing in with the other people on the street. Bertl followed him before he completely disappeared into the crowd. They walked a block (Bertl noticing that there was no parking lot) and then Reiner turned. The publishing house stood in front of them.

Reiner stood in front of it. "It's going to be fun to explain your house, eh?"

Oh. Bertl's face fell further than the perpetual frown it was already in. That was _not_ going to be fun to explain. Not at all.


	7. Chapter 7

Bertolt found out his coworkers already knew about his house. Throughout the hours he had been there, he saw people giving him sad glances. He saw Connie and Sasha whispering each other, and even the daily fights between Jean and Eren had stopped. He heard nothing, as though there was some sort of silent vigil bing held for his apartment. Now that there wasn’t any, he missed the noise.

He could only hear the clicking of his keyboard, which he tapped furiously at. He’d allotted his time so he spent half of it looking for place to rent and composing emails for possible landlords, no matter how much he wished he could stay at Reiner’s place. Annie wouldn’t allow him to stay much longer, and to be honest the short blonde terrified him. The other half of his time was spent editing articles from Connie and Sasha or fiction submissions from people who had applied to be published by Renderists.

He didn’t even notice when he heard something knocking on the doorway to his cubicle, but was pulled out of his thoughts when a smooth, deep voice summoned him. “Mr. Hoover, I need to speak with you.” Bertolt looked up to see Mr. Smith, the owner of the publishing house, looking down at him from the cubicle. He was leaning against it lazily, like he’d been watching Bertolt at work for a while now.

He gaped for a second, before realizing what he needed to say. “Yessir!” He pushed himself away from his desk, pulling himself to his feet before even giving himself time to stretch. As a result, he tripped on his own legs and stumbled. He grabbed onto the wall of the cubicle just in time, but winced at the loud noise it made. He sighed, closing his eyes. “Sorry, Mr. Smith.”

“Erwin, please,” he said calmly. “And don’t worry. It’s nothing serious.”

He nodded quietly, rising back to his full height. He remembered Reiner calling him Erwin a few times, but only thought that was a name he saved for people he knew better. Apparently it wasn’t. Looking down at yet another blond head, he followed Erwin to his own office. Erwin opened the door, then waited for Bertl to slide in in front of him. He nodded and curtsied to thank him before realizing what he’d done. Erwin found his way in before pulling his chair out and sitting down. “Take a seat,” he said.

He did, pulling a chair out and sitting down on the cushioned surface. He nodded quietly, looking down at his hands. They knit together, gripping at his bony knuckles like they would fall apart if they didn’t cling to each other. Why was he in here? Erwin said it wasn’t serious, but he sincerely felt it was.

Erwin sighed finally, and Bertolt watched his long lashes flutter over his clear blue eyes. “I know about your house,” he said finally. “I’m sorry about that.”

He slouched his shoulder, remembering the pile of wreckage and dust he had found. “Thanks,” he said finally.

“However,” Erwin said, and Bertolt noticed his thick brows furrowing. “If I see you drop out of work again without finishing off that day’s checklist, I’m not going to be able to overlook it, okay?”

He nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“Again, please just call me Erwin,” he said, a light smile crossing his lips. He looked like he was pitying him. Again.

“Yes,” he said, then remembered what he just said. “Yes, Erwin.”

His smile widened, and it no longer looked sympathetic. “There you go,” he said. “Now that’s all I wanted to tell you.”

Seemed awfully formal to bring him into Erwin’s office just to tell him not to leave work without doing what he needed to. Why would he take him in here? “Thank you,” he said, pulling himself out of his chair.

“If you’re looking for a new place, just remember to stay safe,” Erwin said as a afternote.

“I will.” He pushed the chair back into the desk. He’d been renting for a while. He knew what to look for. He wasn’t stupid.

He left the office and made his way back to his own cubicle. He slid back into his own chair and jammed his knees up against the underside of it. He tried to straighten his back and look down onto the screen. He opened up his document and started figuring out what needed to be changed. This one was surprisingly good, but it was clear the author didn’t read her manuscript out loud. He whispered phrases beneath his breath, hearing redundancy and rhymes that were probably never meant to be there. He looked for stronger words that would also kill the strange sound to it. This… this certainly had potential. He was just glad he had the vocabulary to figure out what the author meant when she typed “didn’t talk much because he didn’t talk much.” He killed that redundancy and just typed “He was laconic by nature.” He hoped that the author wouldn’t see it as too big an offense.

Before he could even get into the mindset to focus himself on his work and nothing else, he was pulled out of his thoughts as he saw a pair of unfamiliar hands on his desk. “Hey, Birdie,” someone said. He looked up to see a pair of large green eyes staring down at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

Bertl noticed that Eren was crumpling a stack of papers beneath his hands, but didn’t want to bug him to tell him to get his hands off his desk. “Sure,” he said, unsure whether to look at Eren or his work. “Need something?”

“Well, yeah actually,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on with Reiner, but he’s acting kinda weird.”

He stared for a second, wondering why Eren would be asking him this.

Eren ran a hand through his brown, frizzy hair. “You wouldn’t know why, would you?”

Bertl shook his head. “I mean, I just moved in with him for now.” He cracked his pinky finger’s knuckle. “I’m moving out right away, of course, but yeah. I’m at his place for now. I don’t think anything weird’s going on.” He looked back at his work. He now had both today and yesterday’s work to do, and he didn’t want to talk about Reiner to Eren. He wasn’t exactly the friendliest kind of person, now that he knew him better.

“I know about you moving in, don’t worry.” Eren lifted his hands off the desk, but the stack of paper that was underneath them stayed crumpled.

How?

It seemed like Eren read his mind, because he continued with “Word travels quickly around here.”

“Of course,” he said, with an unexpected edge to his voice. The first time he went out with the group, that was how everyone knew his name. He really didn’t appreciate everyone knowing everything about him without him telling them. “So who’s spreading the word,” he said finally. He tried to rack his memory for a better substitute for “Sorta tall, sorta short,” but it was hard to think while he was conversing.

Eren was silent. “Everyone kinda. We all know different things about different people, so we all just kinda talk about it.” He paused. “I’m sorry about your house, by the way. If I had a way to get rid of that…” He could hear Eren seethe through clenched teeth, “Fucker,” he said finally, “I’d absolutely do it.”

Bertl felt the same, but knew that he would never have the courage to stand up to that thing. There was a certain sort of intelligence in those eyes, but as Bertl looked up to Eren, it seemed like he didn’t care about any obstacles Titan could put in his way. For a fleeting moment, Bertl wished he was able to stand up like that, but realized he actually liked living.

“But yeah. _Anyways,_ ” Eren said. “If you find out anything out about Reiner, can you tell me?”

Bertl sighed as he finally found a good word. “Why?” he asked. “I’m not going to give you anything to gossip about,” he said absently. The last time he was in a gossip circle, it turned viciously on him.

“I was drunk, punched him once, and now there’s this fucking feud going on,” he said. “I was totally going to let it go, thought he did too, but _nooo._ ” Bertl turned to Eren to notice that his shirt was soaking wet. “He did something to the water cooler. Sprayed me right in the face, somehow. Thank God I wasn’t pouring hot water.”

“Oh,” Bertl said. He didn’t know that Reiner was able to do that. “But how’d you know it was Reiner?” He noticed his was speeding up the way he talked, almost like Reiner. It must’ve been rubbing off on him.

“He was waiting by the cooler the entire time, and as soon as I was sprayed, he flicked the water tap and the entire thing looked different.” He sounded angry. “So yeah. Now it’s on. Thinks he can just do that and get away with it? I don’t think so.”

Again, Bertl saw that strange determination his eyes, and was afraid just how far this was going to escalate.

Eren sighed, and it seemed he calmed down immediately. “Anyways, happy house-hunting.”

That reminded him. “So who’s the one who talks about me the most?” he asked, tapping at his keyboard as he tried to figure out if there was a justifiable reason for these wordy, yet inane descriptions.

“Reiner and Armin mostly,” he said. “They end up talking a lot about you, you know.”

“Great,” he said. Guess that’s what Reiner meant about being untrustworthy. Couldn’t keep anything to himself, could he? “Thanks,” he said coolly.

“No problem. And if nobody bugs you, we’re trying to give you some space.”

“What?” he asked, feeling a twinge of either pain or anger.

“You lost your place. That’s probably really stressful.”

He heard a clock ding, highlighting the fact that it was now noon. “If you wanna chill with us though, that’s cool.”

“You don’t need to pity me,” Bertolt said. That was the last thing he wanted. He was still an adult. He still was able to function on his own. Life was shitty. The world was cruel. He wasn’t some kind of flower that needed to be shielded from it.

“We… Sorry,” Eren said finally. “We don’t know how to deal with it’s all,” he said. “I’m honestly pretty pissed about it.”

Bertolt pulled himself out from his chair, standing up to nearly a foot taller than Eren. “Same here,” he said finally, surprised that he was now growling.

Eren left after a quick nod. “Sorry about the house,” he said, then disappeared behind the doorway. Bertl tried to follow, assuming they’d be at the staff room, like they always were.

Krista bumped into him, whispering a tiny “Sorry” before heading into the staff room. She turned around and flashed yet another pity smile. Ugh. She opened the door and nearly got bowled over by Reiner.

“Whoops!” Reiner said, flashing a smile over to her then stepping out of her way. He looked up and his eyes widened. “Hey, Bertl.”

“Hey,” he said.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “I told the others about your place so you didn’t have to.”

Bertl grimaced. “Of course,” he said slowly, trying to figure out what to say. He wanted to measure his words carefully. “About that,” he said.

“What?” He leaned against a wall, crossing his arms. He seemed too confident in what was going on, like he didn’t really feel like what Bertl said really mattered. Adding on to all the stress of the day, he really felt his blood boil.

“Please don’t talk about me behind my back. If I’m going to say something, then I’m going to say something.”

Then there it was. Another pity smile. “Sorry, man,” he said, letting his muscled arms fall free. “Didn’t know it bugged you so much.”

“Of course you didn’t. But just let me talk about my own problems, ok?”

“Sure man,” he said. Pity smile. On Reiner, it was especially terrible. But that was really the only reason he’d let Bertl stay at his place, wasn’t it? If Bertl was normal and functioning and going about his day to day life without anything to cause Reiner to take notice of him, they’d just be distant coworkers. He hated that.

“Thanks,” he said, but he stopped as he walked past the open door to the staff room.

Everyone was in there, so he took the opportunity to look at them all. “And I don’t need your sympathy, alright?” He heard the room quiet down for a second, and he saw Marco’s timid glance towards him. Armin nodded quietly.

More sympathy? He found himself stalking off. He didn’t need anymore of it. He was an adult, for crying out loud. He wished people would treat him like one.

***

Reiner heaved a long sigh, scratching at the hair on the back of his neck. He was in the bathroom, staring at his face through a mirror. His eyes always seemed to glow a brighter gold while he was healing. He had to let his mouth hang open from the pain of the tooth that Eren had punched half-out of his gums. Bits of steam danced along his jawline, an angry bruise that formed almost immediately after the hit.

Yet another punch at the hands of Eren. Couldn't that kid think of anything better? God, he was fucking annoying. No wonder Lionhead dumped him.

He noticed his bruise that had formed before lightening up, and the spots of red seemed to evaporate within the steam.

He was glad that he was able to heal so quickly, but he also knew that he needed to control his healing better. He could feel his skin bubbling just minutes ago when he had talked to Bertolt. He had to cover his face and then run to the bathroom, and he was _not_ in the mood for a lecture when Birdie ran into him.

He seethed, but still was mesmerized when he put his hand in front of his face. He could see the steam dancing off the bottom of his hand, to fade through his fingers then into nothingness. He smiled at the sight of it, and let his fingers play with it more, until his bruise had faded fully, and the steam stopped.

His tongue probed his mouth for the loose tooth that had been dangling around from his gums, reached in, and pulled it out with a grunt. He stared at it in mild fascination, knowing it would grow back. He pulled a piece of paper towel out of the dispenser and wrapped the tooth in it. He took a deep sigh, seeing smoke-like rings of steam billowing from his mouth, then grimaced. He wished this tooth would grow in faster. A twenty-minute bathroom break was suspicious at best. He tossed the tooth in the garbage can beside the sink and sighed. He glanced in the mirror again and grinned, seeing that he was missing the tooth just outside his right canine. His grin was bloody, and he would have appreciated how scary he looked if he knew that if anyone saw his teeth growing back nothing would be the same again. They'd probably take him away, thinking he was associated with Titan.

They'd be far more right than they would have ever thought. The thought alone scared Reiner, and he hoped he never had to experience that.

He turned around and leaned against the counter. The wait for this was stupidly long. He could probably just walk outside in the snow and pretend he was smoking, or even better just let his healing steam mix in with what would be already-foggy breath. His hands tightened around the tiled counter. He had to get outside of this office soon, and he certainly didn't want to act like he was some smoker. It would be a funny sort of irony, though, he had to admit.

The bathroom door opened, and Bertolt walked in, legs shaking. He didn't look like the normal timid Birdie he had seen countless times since he had met him. He now looked pissed. And really pissed. Still, he took the time to give a forced smile to Reiner before dipping into the bathroom stall and shutting the door before Reiner could even greet him. Just because it seemed the polite thing to do. He tried to let his steam blow through his nose by breathing it in before it left his mouth and letting it billow out through his nose. It floated in front of his eyes, barely visible for a few seconds before disappearing. He repeated this until there was no steam in front of his mouth.

Bertl walked out of the bathroom stall and Reiner sidestepped so that he could access the sink.

Bertl waved his hands below the soap dispenser before the sensor finally kicked in and dropped the soap onto his palm. He then wet his hands, strangely fixated on his fingers.

"You alright?" Reiner asked, noticing the furrow in his brows that wasn't the same focused state he was always in.

Bertl was pulled out of his fixation, looking up at Reiner. "What?" he asked. Reiner winced at the edge in his voice. What was getting at this kid?

"You ok? I mean, you look fucking pissed."

Bertl stared at him incredulously. He sighed, then looked up at the ceiling for a second. "Did you forget already?"

Reiner dug through his memory, but there was a blackout point from when Eren had socked him to just when he was pulling his tooth out. God, he hated these memory lapses. He pursed his lips. "Sorry, but yeah..."

Birdie's shoulders tensed, then he sighed. "I'm still my own person. Thanks, and I mean _thanks_ for taking me into your place, but my life is mine. I'm an adult, not some kid you took off the streets."

He nodded quietly. "I understand that. What'd I do, though?" He honestly couldn't remember, and he couldn't tell if his face was heated from embarrassment or the steam that was blowing on it.

Birdie sighed again. "You told everyone in the office about my place."

The memories came back to him. "Oh," he said. "Sorry," he said. He was a dick half the time, wasn't he? Wished he could remember it.

"Just don't do it again. I don't need people looking after me like I'm some girl." He tilted his head back and sat next to Reiner on the counter. "Eugh, sorry," Birdie said eventually. He sighed and pulled his hair back away from his forehead. His thin hair fell to the side, and Reiner couldn't help but admire how fast Birdie could go from 'fucking pissed' to his usual timid self. It was weird, and Reiner wished he was able to have that much composure.

"No, I get it," Reiner said finally. "You've lost your place and all that." Correction, Reiner had transformed into Titan and broke his place down. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest and grimaced.

At least the pain in his gums had faded. He saw Birdie grip the counters harder.

"It's not just that. I really like being around you and all. Your place is..." he hesitated and stretched his hands out. "Massive and freaking amazing to be honest. I just..." He seethed through his teeth. "I don't know," he said finally. "I want to stay at your place but I've been disrespected all my life." He sped up as he kept talking. "I don't know, but I'm an adult now and have been for a while. I've been making my own life choices for ears now and I don't want anyone taking that from me by killing my trust for them. You understand that, right?" He tilted his head downward, grey eyes dead-set on Reiner, and he felt his breath catch. What a stare, by God.

He nodded, feeling his face warm again. "Yeah. I get that," he said. "I'm not going to do it again." He hoped he didn't forget.

But Bertolt trusted him? He forced his smile down.

"Thanks," he said. He got off the counter and pulled his shirt down past his rear. Reiner stared for a second longer than he should have, but pulled his eyes back up to Birdie's steely glare. "I'm sorry for bursting out like that in front of everyone else," he said finally.

"Don't be. I was headed out anyways."

Bertl didn't smile as he cocked his head, like he was inspecting Reiner. "Wait, why?" he asked.

He grimaced, realizing that he had no wounds to show as he said, "Eren socked me again."

Bertl's lips pursed. "Oh. Is this because of the water cooler?"

He nodded. "Sounds about right," he said. "How'd you know about that?"

"Eren told me."

Dammit. "Why'd he go to _your_ cubicle?" he asked beneath his breath. He wasn't looking for information, was he? He hoped not. "Oh," he said louder.

“Yeah,” he said. There was a pause. “I’m not going to give him ammo, don’t worry.” He flashed a quick smile, showing straight white teeth.

“Thanks,” Reiner said as Bertolt got back on his feet, standing tall enough that Reiner was eye-level with his lips.

“Well anyways, I’ve gotta get back to work.” The taller man said, seeming to compress so he could get past Reiner’s swinging legs. He opened the door, and Reiner stared as he left. He let out a breath, a massive cloud of steam puffing out of his mouth.

Bertolt liked him? As the door swung shut, he let a massive grin cover his face. Thank God. That meant he couldn’t have been bugged by last night, when he ended up acting like he and Bertl were on a date, right? He hoped so.

He let another puff of steam fall out. Twisting his head and grinning to show that his tooth had grown back in, white and sharp as ever before, he chuckled. “Yes!” he said.

Bertolt liked him. Nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait on this chapter! If you haven't seen my post on tumblr, I've found some things about the source material to this fic that are making me personally uncomfortable, so am trying to distance myself from SNK and a large part of its fandom. 
> 
> Worry not, I'm going to keep working on this fic because I still really love the characters and all!


	8. Chapter 8

Eren had socked Reiner again? Bertl didn't like to believe it. Wasn't there rules against this? Reiner could press charges, maybe? That seemed so weak though. Reiner seemed too proud for that anyways.

Still, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Was that why Reiner seemed so rushed earlier? He looked seriously uncomfortable back in the bathroom. He'd be too.

Heck, he wouldn't know how to react. At least Reiner wasn't being violent about this. It _was_ kinda funny how he'd reacted, actually. He wished he'd seen the water cooler prank that Reiner had pulled, but he didn't want Eren's anger to be directed at him, too. He should… he should probably stay close to Reiner from now on, both for his and Reiner's sake. Eren wouldn't go against two people, right?

He shouldn't be afraid. He was tall, that should be enough. And he looked like he had pretty weak punches. Reiner hadn't even bruised.

They should be fine. He felt tension release from his hands, though he never realized he was tense. He took a deep breath, wincing as his ribs reminded him why he shouldn't have bound for so long. He got back to typing. He just got up to date on his work just before he took a bathroom break. Now he just had to deal with today's, which didn't seem like it was too much. He only had to deal with a few fliers.

Before he could start, he was interrupted by another familiar voice. "Hey!"

Bertl looked up to see Armin. "You doing alright?" he asked.

Bertl shrugged, swiping a bang out of his way. "Yeah, I'm doing good." A lie, and Armin probably knew it.

"I've got you some coffee," he said. "You've got a lot of work to do, today, huh?"

"How'd you know?" he asked, unsurprised. He skimmed to see what was wrong with these fliers he needed to edit.

"We've all gotten The Talk by now, I think. I'm pretty bad for leaving my work, actually."

"Well that's cruddy,"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I'm up to date now, but yeah. It usually happens whenever something crappy happens." He paused and played with the ponytail at the back of his head. "So… I was kinda wondering if you needed any help with anything?"

He stopped typing and glanced back to his work. "Um…" He should be good… "Are you sure you're up to date?" he asked. "I don't want you to fall behind or anything and it's not like I've really got any big assignments to do."

"I'm all up to date, don't worry."

"Oh," Bertl said. He want back down to looking at his work. "I should be good for now, thanks."

He saw as Armin's face fell. "Well, it was worth asking, right?" He smiled, but instead of it being yet another pity smile, it seemed to genuinely radiate happiness. "You still want your coffee?"

Bertl shrugged. Did he really want it? It would be rude to turn him down though. "Sure," he said finally. "Thanks."

As Armin slid it onto the desk (more carefully this time) and then stepped out of the office with a wave of his hand, Bertl got back to work. He used his pinky to pull the hot mug closer to him. He took a quick sip, face wrinkling at the bitter flavour, then put it down.

Everything looked good, actually. He glanced onto his desk for the papers that would have anything else he needed to do for the day. The papers were crumpled, and there was a few tears on the edges after Eren had his hands on them, but at least they were still intact. He took another swig of his coffee, shrugging quietly as he realized he was mostly done for today. Time to get back to house-hunting…

He checked listings to see if there were any apartments he could rent. If they were close to work, that'd be nice, but he was able to wake up earlier to take a bus if he had to.

In all honesty, it probably would have just been better to stay with Reiner, but Annie was still a terrifying force, despite being a foot and a half shorter than him. He didn't want to know what she'd do to him if he stayed, and even without that he didn't want to be the wedge between Reiner and Annie. Even if Annie was getting up in knots over it for no reason it still felt wrong to even be there. Hence why he felt the need to get out. He grimaced as he noticed how expensive the rent was for all these places. He calculated his budget, then realized that he'd have to cut out quite a bit of his food budget for what he was looking at. At least he didn't eat much anyways. He still had to deal with expenses such as a mattress and basic living supplies, which he still had to use to his advantage. He growled, swearing to himself beneath his breath. This was just honestly really bad. He didn't know why he was the one who was forced to deal with all of this stuff, when logic screamed that Reiner of all people should be.

He took back the thought as soon as it appeared. Reiner would probably be even more devastated by the attack than Bertl. It was terrible to even wish that thought on anyone, so he took another deep breath to clear his mind, and went back to calculating his budget.

He could probably just sleep in a few blankets for a while until his paycheques started coming in. Maybe he'd be able to freelance online or something and then he could earn some pocket money that way. Eugh. He took another swig, ignoring the burn in his mouth.

Maybe that pity wasn't for nothing.

God, he hoped that wasn't the case though. He just had to brave through this, that was all. He wasn't a dramatic teenager anymore. He just had to deal.

That's what Marcel would've said, at least.

He put a finger to his forehead, feeling the cold sweat that was breaking out on it. He seethed to himself. He'd been through this before, he told himself. At least this time he had support and experience. He'd get through this, he told himself again.

It'd be alright soon. It had to be.

***

Bertl stretched, listening for the clock to ring for the end of the work day. He sighed when it seemed to take forever and he kept on checking the clock on his computer for the time. Last he checked it was 4:58. He checked again now. 4:59.

It seemed to take so long for the day to end, and he just kept scrolling over the same page he had hundreds of times that day, constantly refreshing to see if there were any cheaper listings. He never knew how kind Mrs. Thatcher, his landlady, was to him. These were all a couple hundred dollars more than his previous rent, and now he realized how much he would need to cut out from his budget. At least he didn’t have to pay student loans.

Finally, his computer read 5:00. He gave his page one last run-over before getting out of his desk, stretching again. He yawned, trying to do it quietly, but could sill hear his loud breath. He blinked the tiredness out of his eyes, realizing how nice it was not to look at a glaringly white computer screen. He started his walk out of the office. He made it to the entry way and the staff coat rack. He pulled his jacket off and slipped it on. Then, he waited for Reiner. He forgot where the car was, and he hoped Reiner hadn’t either.

He reached into his pocket for his phone and his hands reached empty air. What? He hissed to himself as he tried to remember where it was.

“You alright?” he heard someone ask. He looked up to see Connie, and surprisingly he didn’t have a pity smile on.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. He remembered he’d left it on his desk. “Just forgot something.”

“Oh,” Connie said, frowning. “Well, better grab it then.” He slipped on a pair of massive winter boots. “See ya. Coming, Sasha?”

“Yeah!” she said. The redhead speed-walked down the hall, narrowly missing Bertl. “Sorry,” she said, making a small curtsy before turning around and hunting for her jacket. She pulled one with a furry hood down and pulled it on. “You up for lunch, Connie? I’ll pay.”

He didn’t hear the answer. Bertl twisted around and tried to get past her, but Marco bumped into him. He was forced to wait until Connie and Sasha cleared out, then he made his way past Marco. Everyone said "Sorry" at least twice. He found his way back into his office, walking faster so he didn’t get interrupted again. He didn’t want Reiner to take any longer than he had to in order to get to his place. A half-hour drive was probably too much for him. If his new roommate made him take any longer, he thought that Reiner would combust. He didn’t seem to like work as much as Bertl did...

He found his cubicle and turned in only to see Eren at his desk. What the heck? Eren was shuffling through papers on his desk, and Bertl couldn’t help but stare for a few seconds. Then Eren looked up. His face paled, and any determination that was in his green eyes faded.

“What the heck?” he asked. “What’re you doing in here?” He was unsure what else to say.

“I...” Eren stood up tall, but was still a lot shorter than Bertl. “I was just looking for your checklist, see if you’d submitted all the stuff you needed to.” He reached onto the desk for the crumpled checklist.

“That’s Erwin’s job.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it now!” Eren smiled innocently, then bolted out of the cubicle.

Bertl knew the lie. What was he doing snooping in his cubicle? He growled to himself, grabbed his phone, then went after Eren. He saw Eren’s spiky brown hair disappear behind a corner. He turned left and Eren ran down another hall. Bertl followed behind, his shoes skidding with his sharp turn. He hit the wall, and saw Eren disappear again. “Wait!” he said. He continued running, his long legs kicking out from beneath him.

He turned again, but was grabbed by the hips and pushed against the wall. Then there was an elbow against his chest. “Listen, Birdie,” Eren said, teeth gritted. “I was just looking for something. That’s all you need to know.”

“It’s my desk. I’ve got the right to know.” He clenched his fists, trying to bluff to Eren.

He wasn’t taking it. “Birdie, I think something’s wrong with Reiner.”

“What?”

Eren let go, brushing his shirt. “Armin pointed it out first.”

“Pointed out what?” Was that why Armin was in his cubicle earlier?

“He just said there was something wrong with him. And he’s right. He’s completely healed after I give him a punch that was enough for my knuckles to _bleed_. They’re better now, but he should have bruised at least.”

What? Reiner looked completely untouched. Eren couldn’t have hit him that hard.

“I saw blood streaming from his mouth, like he’d lost a tooth. And he’s still smiling? There’s some fucking bullshit going around.”

Bertl's hands shook, his nails digging into his palms. “That’s all? He’s just strong, okay? And why are you going around hitting him anyways?”

“To test Armin’s theories.” His eyes were fiery. “And he’s right!”

Bertl shook his head again. “You’ve got to be kidding me. There’s got to be something else.”

“What’s going on?” Bertl heard someone ask. Bertl stiffened, eyes widening. Armin turned the corner. He stared, then his eyes narrowed. “Does he know, then?”

Bertl stiffened. Was there some sort of grand conspiracy against Reiner?

Eren sighed. “Yeah, but he’s not buying it.”

“What else is there? Maybe Reiner’s just strong,” Bertl repeated, feeling left out of the conversation.

“We don’t know what else there is!” Eren admitted, seething. “We just know there’s something.”

“What’s this got to do with me?” he asked finally, staring down at Armin. “Why’re you guys doing this?”

“We’ve got one last thing,” Armin said steadily. “Have you noticed Reiner’s voicemail?”

“What about it?” He could feel his fists clenching. He didn’t want to have this conversation. These guys were wrong, and he wasn’t going to help them.

“He doesn’t care about Titan. He always says he’s safe. How can he be that confident?” He still stared at Bertl with his wide blue eyes.

“He just is!” Bertl said.

Eren shushed him with a glare and a finger in front of his mouth. “We need you to make sure of that,” he said finally. “Keep an eye on him, find some stuff, anything.”

“No,” he said. “You’re being paranoid. Reiner’s just... Reiner.” It was dark in this corner, but Eren’s eyes seemed to glow just like Reiner’s.

“We think that Reiner's just _Titan,_ ” Eren said.

Bertl stopped. “What?”

“You heard us. He’s never around when Titan shows up.”

“How would you know?” He could feel a cold sweat break on his forehead.

“He left right after you came out yesterday,” Armin said, stealing a quick glance at Eren. “Then two minutes later, your place gets destroyed.”

“Hey Birdie, where’re you at?” He heard Reiner call.

“Shit.” Eren started scribbling on the checklist he had in his hand. He passed it to Armin. “Wait here a sec,” he said to Bertl.

Bertl nodded as seconds later Armin passed him the paper. “All we’re saying is you should keep your eyes open. Now go!”

Bertl nodded, gripping the paper in his hands. He ran down the hall, his feet echoing on the tiles. He jammed it in his coat’s inner pocket, then turned again.

He ran straight into Reiner, but Reiner caught him before he could fall. “You took your time there,” he said, lifting Bertl up without so much as a grunt of effort. “You alright?”

He looked back then turned back to Reiner, who was grinning up at him. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I was just looking for something.”

“You find it?” he asked, starting to walk back to the exit.

“Yeah,” he said. Reiner grinned wider, lighting up his golden eyes.

“That’s good.”

They kept walking in silence. Reiner couldn’t be Titan. He was too welcoming and friendly for that. And Titan was a 60 foot monster anyways, not a 6 foot man who was welcoming Bertl into his home. His skin was smooth, unlike the rough edges that appeared all over Titan’s skin. Not to mention Titan was naked.

Reiner wouldn’t go streaking, would he? He flushed at the thought.

Reiner pulled a knit sweater off of the rack and slipped it over his head, his blonde hair bouncing back up as soon as the sweater was off of it. “You sure you’re not alright, man?”

Titan had blond hair, but so did so many other people.

“Yeah,” Bertl said finally.

“Well if there’s anything you need to talk about,” Reiner said, pulling a pair of winter boots on, “You can always trust me.”

_If there’s anyone you shouldn’t trust, it’d be me._

Was that what Reiner meant when he said that to Annie? He stared at Reiner, noticing that Eren was right. There wasn’t even a bruise on Reiner’s jaw. He’d healed completely.

“Sure, man.”

Reiner opened the door. “After you, man. Let’s head home, alright?”

“Sure.” Bertl stepped through, his hands clenching the paper that Armin and Eren had written on.

Could Armin be right? Was Reiner Titan?


	9. Chapter 9

Bertl noticed the drive to Reiner’s place was so long because Reiner was trying to take forever. They’d passed the same intersection five times now. They’d taken turns when going straight should’ve worked. Why though?

“Are we lost?” Bertl asked finally, hoping he didn’t sound annoyed.

Reiner stared at him, jaw agape for a second and eyes wide, before staring back at the road at the red light. “No,” he said finally.

He sounded shaky. Bertl stiffened.

“I’m just taking my time,” he said finally. Bertl looked and could see his thick arms tensing on the wheel. “Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon.”

Bertl nodded. He didn’t believe Reiner. It wasn’t Reiner’s memory that caused this, was it? He hoped it was. He stared ahead as the light turned green, and finally Reiner went straight ahead down the road.

He noticed Reiner almost zigzagging down the streets, when just going straight would have worked. They drove past the parking lot to Renderists, and Bertl couldn’t help but side-eye Reiner as they went down the road and kept zigzagging. “Are you okay?” Bertl asked finally.

“Yeah,” Reiner said after he stopped at another red light. “Why?”

Bertl saw Eren’s determined stare in the back of his mind. “No reason. I just thought 47th was closer, that’s all.”

To that, Reiner laughed, hoarse and throaty. “Nah, it’s the traffic that makes it take so long.”

“Oh. Ok.” He didn’t want to broach the topic further in case he found out more to support Armin and Eren’s theory. He desperately wanted them to be wrong, but why would Reiner be taking so long to get to his place, including driving in the completely wrong direction.

But he’d forgotten where his car was parked before, so he might’ve been driving in the wrong direction because of whatever memory problem he had. It could easily just be a memory problem. God he hoped it was. Did he even have a memory problem.

He bit the inside of his lip, a nervous tic he’d had since he was young. It didn’t hurt any more, now that he bit on scars. He wished that Eren was wrong. Oh how he did.

They drove for long minutes of silence, Reiner zigzagging down roads and through even a suburb until he stopped at an apartment building. He passed a ramp that led into underground parking and instead decided to go an extra block away from his building.

He turned into another alley a building away, and finally turned the car off.

Even if the sun hadn’t fully set by now, Bertl knew the car would be shrouded in darkness. He could barely see at all, yet Reiner’s eyes glowed like a cat’s. What light could he be reflecting. “Welp,” Reiner said finally, opening the car door after the headlights turned off, “Here we are, finally.” He laughed at himself. “Sorry for taking so long.”

Bertl got out of the car, stumbling on a block of ice sticking up out of the cement. He didn’t respond.

“Over here.” He followed the familiar voice, tracing his hands along the freezing surface of the car to orient himself. He stopped when he was nearly face-to-face with Reiner’s cat’s-eyes.

“Thanks.” He felt another hand grip his own and squeeze tightly.

“You’re safe with me, alright?” Another tight squeeze. Bertl didn’t return it. He wasn’t sure.

They walked down the alley, crunching through the snow. “Careful,” Reiner said as he picked Bertl up to lift him over something. “It looks really slippery there.”

How would he know?

When they left the shade of the alley, a flurry of snow started to fall onto their heads. Bertl shook the snow off his head, now able to see it as it fell from his hair, bathed in red light. He looked over to Reiner, and his eyes’ glow had subsided. They walked in silence, Bertl shaking the cold from his head. It seemed like there wasn’t any snow on Reiner, but maybe he was just warm enough the snow melted as soon as it hit his head. Maybe short hair was just warmer.

Finally, they entered the building. They kicked the snow off their boots and started their way to Reiner’s apartment.

They waited in an elevator for long seconds. Bertl side-eyed Reiner. If Armin was right, he certainly didn’t act like he had anything to do with Bertl’s house. He looked like he was completely calm about the entire situation, like he enjoyed having Bertl around. He smiled inwardly at the thought. “You’re quiet,” Reiner said as the elevator door opened. He glanced at Bertl, lips pursed, before turning back to look forward.

“Just thinking,” Bertl said, as he’d always done whenever someone told him he was quiet.

“What about?” he pressed. They walked through immaculately decorated halls, and again Bertl felt warmer just by looking at the lighting.

“Nothing much.” The fact that Reiner could be Titan? That Armin and Eren were probably going to report him to the cops if Bertl found out more about Reiner? He jammed his right hand into his pocket, realizing that he was still holding Reiner’s hand.

His grip loosened. “Oh.”

They finally reached the apartment, and Bertl half-expected Annie waiting for them in the entry way as soon as the door opened. Instead, the place looked oddly empty.

“We’re back, Lionhead!” Reiner called. He looked down at his wrist. “And it’s only 5:30. Nice.”

Bertl leaned against the wall and pulled his shoes off, while Reiner swung his leg back and kicked his boot off like it was a soccer ball. It flew into the closet with a bang, making Bertl wince. He gently placed his shoes in front of the closet. As soon as he stood up, a second boot whizzed past where his head would have been. It hit the wall, and then fell onto the floor.

“Sorry Birdie,” Reiner said. “You hungry?”

“Kinda,” he said. In reality he was starving, but he wasn’t going to impose on Reiner any more than he did.

“Good. I was afraid I was going to have to make an entire meal for one.” He strode through the living room and into the kitchen. “Weird,” he heard Reiner say. “She’s not around?”

Bertl followed behind quietly, bending over to pick up a blanket that was laying down in front of the couch. The TV was left on, and it looked like a drama was starting up. He stared at the recap, not sure what it meant. He shrugged and folded the blanket over the couch’s back. He then went and organized the coffee table a bit.

“Don’t worry about cleaning,” he heard Reiner call from the kitchen. “You’re a guest.”

He didn’t listen. He was living here for now and he wasn’t going to just be dead weight for Reiner. He picked up the remote, laying on the floor, and then placed it beside a cup on the coffee table. He picked the cup up, still half-full with water, and took it to the kitchen.

The kitchen was clean already, apparently, as Reiner was cracking eggs into a pan. “Sorry I couldn’t get supper ready,” he said. He cracked another few, then opened a drawer. He hunted for something, then pulled a spatula up. “You aren’t allergic to eggs, are you?”

Bertl shook his head. He was allergic to bees, but that was about it.

“Alrighty then.” He scraped the spatula along the bottom of the pan. “Then eggs are quick and easy.” He sighed. “There shoulda been more in the fridge. Guess Lionhead didn’t go shopping. That’s tomorrow’s mission, then.”

Bertl nodded.

“Well whatever. Eggs’ll work. You up for another show tonight?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s the spirit.” Reiner grinned, eyes still fixed on the eggs. “You pick the show. Go on now. I’ll bring the eggs out.”

Bertl nodded.

Before he left, he heard a muttered “fuck,” beneath Reiner’s breath.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Reiner said. “Just burnt myself.” He flashed his hand, but there wasn’t even a red mark. Reiner’s eyes widened just as he was pulling his fingers back, and he went back to his eggs. He looked even more focused, and he could see the tenseness in Reiner’s jaw. What?

He left the kitchen quickly. He switched to the food channel. Funnily enough, an episode of that terrible cooking show he’d been watching last night was just starting up. He watched the introduction sequence, taking mental notes so he could fill Reiner in.

He couldn’t hear the tap running in the kitchen so Reiner could run his finger under it, like someone was supposed to after getting burned.

A minute later, Reiner came through with two plates in his hand. Between his fingers were two forks. “I’ve made some for Annie too,” he said absently. “She’s probably eaten though, so they’re just staying warm in the oven.” He slid the plates onto the coffee table and dropped a fork down. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. So what’s going on?”

Bertl filled him in on the contestants and what the first challenge was. They watched and ate in silence. Reiner must have dumped a heckton of cheese into these, he noticed. They were delicious. He ate his eggs quickly and waited for Reiner to finish. “Thanks for the eggs,” he said finally.

“No problem.” Reiner finished his eggs a minute after Bertl, so he stood up and took his plate. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Bertl echoed, and stood up. Before he could take a step though, there was a small, siren-like noise, and a banner of red beneath the video.

_BREAKING NEWS: SUPERMARKET DESTROYED BY TITAN. MORE INFORMATION ON CHANNEL 7_

Bertl stopped in his tracks. But Reiner was right here. That meant he wasn’t Titan. He could finally lay those thoughts to rest.

“The fuck?” Reiner asked. He reached for the remote and switched the channel.

Bertl noticed that the anchor looked truly panicked as she stood in front of a flaming building. “Minutes ago, there was a Titan attack at the Superstore.”

“What?” Bertl asked. Reiner echoed it seconds later.

“Eyewitness reports state that this is a _second_ Titan. This one’s skin is not extremely thick like armour, but is much more calculated in how it defended itself. The death toll is being calculated as we speak. Again, reports say that this is _not_ Titan, but a new one that apparently looks more feminine."

“What?” Reiner asked, louder this time.

There was a knock at the door. Bertl’s head jerked, and he put the plates down before tearing his eyes away from the screen and running to the door.

When he opened it, he was met with Annie. She wasn’t angry. In fact, her blue eyes were wide with fear. Her white hoodie was stained red, like she was dropped into a vat of raw meat. Her face looked like there were dull knife marks running down it. Bertl stepped back.

“Are you okay?” he asked on impulse.

“I...” Annie trailed off and crumpled to the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

"Annie!" Reiner stood up off of the couch, pushing the coffee table out of the way. He bolted to the door. Oh god. He stopped dead in his tracks when he recognized her state. She'd been covered in flesh, like he had before. Her hair was stained with blood. She must've been knocked out from the shock?

Shit, shit, _shit._ Why her? How could she even be able to do this?

"Bertolt," Reiner said quietly. He needed to keep his voice down. "I need you to leave for a while."

"What?" he asked.

He twisted back to glare at him. "She doesn’t trust you. I don’t want her waking up around you, you got that?" he said finally. He felt like an ass for saying it, but it was the only excuse he had. Even then it was a questionable excuse. He needed to get her out of the apartment, in case it happened again or Annie would start talking about what happened. He couldn't afford either outcome.

"I know that, just what can I do?" He ran his hands through his coal-black hair wildly, like he was mid-panic.

"Nothing!" Reiner said, realizing the edge to it before it was too late. His face fell, and he stole another glance at Annie. She wasn't stirring. "Just..." He growled to himself, and tapped Annie's shoulder. "Wake up, Lionhead."

Wake up, please.

"I..."

Reiner's fists clenched and he couldn't hold back any longer. "Just go!" Reiner said. "I’ll wait here for her to wake up.”

"Alright," Bertolt said. He stepped back quietly. Reiner could hear his heartbeat quicken as he left the entry way. A door slammed shut seconds later.

He heaved a sigh, unsure of what else he could do. He just needed to take her to the car until she woke up. Then, she'd b safe and Birdie couldn’t overhear whatever happened to her. He couldn't know. "For fuck's sake," he whispered to himself. He stood up, put one hand beneath the small of her back and the other beneath her neck, and lifted her up. "You'll be okay," he said, unsure of whether he was talking to himself or Annie. He seethed beneath his breath.

She was as light as a feather, and Reiner hated it. His strength was just a sign of how fucked him and his entire situation were, and he honestly wished he could forget it. He faked a grunt, and forced the door open with two fingers from the hand under Annie's back. He pulled the door open, making sure that Annie didn’t get jabbed by a corner. "Wake up please," he whispered. Maybe she didn't transform at all. Maybe it was something that was actually life-threatening. He swore beneath his breath, choking on a lump in the back of his throat. Not Lionhead. Of all the people. And why did this happen so suddenly? 

He ran down the stairs, waiting for the front desk worker to turn around. When she did, he ran at full speed with her in his arms through the apartment building’s lobby. BY the time he was forced to stop for the revolving doors, she hadn’t even looked back in his direction. He felt like a snail inching along with the doors as he was forced to sit still with his unconscious sister in his arms. 

He swore as the doors finally let him out, and he just ran to his car. He slipped, but only skidded. He only just realized he was in bare feet as the cold stung his toes. They'd heal. It was something that always happened to him now that his powers had surfaced. The skyscrapers above him illuminated the alleyway with his car in it enough that if he wasn’t able to see in the dark, he could have seen the shimmer of his car. He ran into the alley, stopped at the car, and noticed that Annie was starting to stir. Thank God. He laid Annie down on the side of the car and rummaged for his keys in his pants pocket. He sighed in relief when he saw them. Thank God he didn't leave them in his jacket. He unlocked the car, picked Annie up, and carried her to the passenger seat.

He saw her eyes starting to open. They were milky, like she wasn’t fully conscious.

They were glowing just like his.

Fuck.

Reiner got into the driver’s seat and flicked on the lights above his head. He stared at Annie, waiting for her to wake up.

Was she warm? That was what Reiner noticed as soon as he started transforming. He noticed Annie's eyes closed again, and he sighed. He laid two fingers to her forehead, pulling back at the heat. She was burning up. His fingers were covered in a thin layer of blood. He rubbed them off on his shirt. Shit, she was transforming.

Her eyes opened slowly, and even though the lighting was dim, they still blazed. "What..." she asked. She jolted upright in her chair, stiff as a board. She twisted to Reiner, looking like she was ready to fight something. "Reiner?" she asked. She calmed down quickly, and her brows knit together into her permanent scowl. "Where..."

Reiner sighed, remembering just how disoriented he felt after his first transformation. "Annie, we're in my car." He looked behind him to check if anyone was walking by the alley. "What happened?"

Annie looked down at her hands, leaning back into the chair. She stared up into the roof. "I must've fainted at the store." She pulled her hoodie down and ran her fingers through her hair. She pulled it back, and her eyes widened at her now-reddened palms. "It wasn't a dream then?" she asked quietly. "What the fuck?"

Reiner sighed. He saw as Annie looked down at her sweater. "Why am I covered in blood? I thought I got a concussion as I fainted.”

"What do you remember?" he asked, realizing he needed to change his approach. He saw as Annie stared down at her hands again.

"I was Titan," she said quietly. "Something happened. I can't remember what, but I got hurt somehow."

Reiner couldn't remember much either. He sighed and put his fingers between his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I know what you're feeling, Annie," he whispered.

She clenched her fists, face lit dramatically under the dashboard light. "I don't know what's going on, Reiner," she said. "I...."

Reiner stared at Annie, trying to remember what triggered his first transformation. "Fuck,” he seethed. He racked his brain. "I don't know," he said. "I thought that maybe..." He stopped and remembered how he'd simply cut himself on the rough edge of a counter. "Where on your body did you get injured?" he asked.

Annie sighed, looking up at Reiner. "I don't know."

She was looking at her hands. "You should be alright," he said.

"What does injuring myself have to do with this?” she asked.

Reiner looked down at his own hands, clasping Annie's. He had a theory that transforming had to do with injury. So far it had proved correct. "I need you to keep a secret," he said finally. He clasped harder, his fingers digging into the back of her hand. He made sure not to break skin. Who would know what would happen, then?

"Answer my question."

It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest as he took a deep breath and glared into Annie's glowing eyes. "I will, but please, please don't report me to the police."

Annie's hands shook beneath him. "Tell me,” she repeated, taking measured pauses between her words. "I promise." Her voice quivered.

"I'm..." He clenched his teeth, and staring at the ceiling of the car, heaved a deep sigh. "I'm Titan."

Annie’s hands tightened on Reiner’s. They started shaking like she was about to fly into a fiery rage. Reiner saw as her eyes widened and her mouth opened. “Bullshit,” she finally said. “You’re not. You’re pulling my leg.”

He didn’t expect to be met with disbelief. “No, I’m not,” he said. “I’m really Titan. You’re going through the same thing as me.”

“How would you know?”

“I saw a new Titan on the news, then minutes later you show up at the door and pass out.” He racked his brain, trying to figure out how to compare his own experiences with hers. They really were a different can of worms, huh? “When I transformed, I turned back into a human covered in Titan blood, then ran back home and passed out in the shower.” He was surprised he remembered that much.

Annie was silent. “You’re wrong. That’s… that’s not what happened.”

“You’re covered in blood, Annie. That’s what the inside of a titan looks like. And your face? That’ll fade away in an hour but that’s what happens when Titan flesh latches onto you…” Reiner had transformed enough that he was now conscious whenever he was Titan so could remember the tendrils of gore attached to his face. When the titan around him disappeared, the flesh evaporated as well, leaving nothing but the indents on his face that were nearly identical to Annie’s.

He saw Annie;s expression hadn’t changed. “You dumb asshole,” she said quietly. “I…” She scowled again, staring at the blood on her hands. “I need some time…”

Reiner nodded, laying back against his seat. “Take all the time you need.”

He rested his eyes, tilting his head back and taking a deep breath. He could hear Annie’s breathing, her accelerated heart rate. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Annie. I honest to God don’t.” 

“How do I hide this? How do you?”

Reiner stiffened in his chair. “I repress all of it, Annie. I put on a front. I act like I’m…” He opened his eyes, aware the glow of his eyes illuminated his lashes, half-blinding him. “I act like I’m the nicest guy in the world, that I’ve got nothing to hide and nothing better to do than kick back and take life easy.” He hung his head. “God, I wish it was actually like that. I mean, Nice Guy Reiner’s the only thing stopping them from noticing that I’m never around when Titan is. They don’t notice that I take so many twists and turns when I’m driving so that I’m sure nobody’s following me home. It’s why I call you Lionhead to the guys at work, because knowing I’ve got a sister named Annie would be enough to track down our address if there were any cops in the crowd.” He turned to her. “To hide this, you become miserable. You become a half-hearted piece of _shit_ if you have to. But the important thing is that you keep yourself safe.” He twisted, finally meeting Annie’s gaze after his rant. She was shaking, and the blood all over her was starting to crust and turn a dark brown colour. “You forget who you are at the end of the day. You forget your own personality. You have to, because otherwise you’re too obvious, and I can’t,” he seethed, feeling his throat tighten, “ _can’t,_ have them find us out.”

Annie looked down at her hands, her eyes glassy. “I… I understand.”

“I’m so sorry this is happening to you,” he said. “If it was just me, I would have survived—”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” she snapped.

“I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?” 

“No, you aren’t,” Annie said. “You aren’t. You’re losing yourself, and I’ve seen it happen over the last year. This… Titan stuff, it’s killing you, Reiner.”

He laughed dryly. Maybe all of this secret identity business was what was fucking with his memory, too. “Maybe so,” he said. “But it’s better if I’m the only one that dies.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Sibling death (just in case.)

Was Annie okay? Reiner seemed pretty freaked out. Did he take her to a hospital? Bertl hoped he did. He wished he knew for certain, though...

The sound of the door opening met Bertl’s ears, causing him to fall out of his thoughts. Instead of just hearing one pair of footsteps, he heard two. He got up, and opened the door to the kitchen. It felt like they’d been gone for hours, and it was definitely a relief to hear them coming back. He got to see Annie again, who was covered from head-to-tow in that film of red. It had turned crusty and was now flaking, falling down to the carpet.

He couldn’t speak as he saw that Annie was back on her feet. She was stiff and wasn’t looking at Reiner, but she was okay. That’s all that mattered.

Reiner held Annie by the shoulder, but let her off of him as soon as he met eyes with Bertolt. “It’s alright now,” he said to him.

Bertl nodded, and he watched as Annie ambled past him into the kitchen. She seemed a lot less responsive.

Was she really okay? She didn’t even throw him a glare as she walked by.

There was an awkward pause. Bertl moved away from the kitchen door as he heard Annie amble down the hall. He smiled halfheartedly. “So she’s good then?” he asked finally.

“Yeah,” Reiner said. He sighed, then sat down on the couch. He slumped down until his head was no longer visible and he was lying down.

The shower turned on seconds later.

“Hey, Birdie,” he said, “You wanna chill out for a bit?” Bertl was about to respond when Reiner cut in with, “And no cooking shows or anything. Just... talking.” Another sigh, and Bertl saw one of Reiner’s legs flop over the back of the couch. Seconds later, the other one came up.

He noticed that Reiner was bare-footed. He never saw (or heard) Reiner’s boots fly off in the entry way though.

“Sure.” He made his way to the couch and sat down at it. His knees jutted up past his chest, but it was expected with the short couch. “Are you okay?” Bertl waited for him to respond while staring at his features. He looked completely exhausted. The bags under his eyes were darkened with lack of sleep. His mouth was curved into a tight frown. He surely didn’t look okay.

“Scared for Lionhead, that’s all.” He groaned, his head hanging off of the couch. “I don’t know what caused it,” he said underneath his breath.

“Maybe you should get it checked out. What if it happened while...” He stopped. Memories of Marcel flashed through his head. His body sprawled against the pavement, blood trickling from his mouth. He was ten feet away from where the car was, his limbs bent in all the wrong directions and his chest caved in. The driver tore away as quickly as he'd came.

“I don’t want to think about that,” Reiner said, an edge to his voice.

Bertl could imagine Annie being in the position of the driver that hit his brother. He shuddered. If she’d fainted on the road it would have been. “Neither do I,” he said.

There was a silence, yet again. “I’m sorry,” Reiner said. “It was scary tonight, you know.”

He had no idea. There was nothing scarier than seeing your brother throw himself in front of a car and throw you to the ground. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’ve felt it.”

Reiner twisted around until he was half-sitting and half-lying-down. “Oh,” he said. Bertl looked at him and could see that his tired eyes were wide-open and glowing. “Are you comfortable talking about it?”

Bertl shook his head. “It went bad,” he said, “It’s part of the reason I can’t go back to my parents.” They’d blame him for Marcel’s death even though they knew Bertl already did.

“Did you...”

Bertl stiffened and turned to Reiner. He could feel his hands shaking as he said, “I’m not comfortable talking about it.”

Reiner pursed his lips. “Sorry." He sat up and put his fingers on his lap. “I shouldn’t have bugged you.”

Bertl shrugged. “I wasn’t clear enough.”

Again, silence from Reiner. The shower pattered in the background and behind that he could hear the constant hum of cars in the streets below. A siren wailed, passing by as fast as it was heard.

The shower stopped.

“I don’t know,” Reiner said. “It’s just been a bit of a whirl tonight, you know?”

Bertl nodded. He understood.

“I should’ve dropped it, but I don’t know. I think I’ve just got to get some things off my chest.” He sighed and stared up at the ceiling again. Bertl noticed that his eyes were puffy. “Like... I don’t know. Maybe I’ve got the same thing as Annie.”

Bertl stiffened. He felt like he knew where this was going.

“If I do, I could die any day. It’s just logical.”

“Don’t say that." His hands were shaking again.

“Why not? I mean. That’s just life. If Annie can faint at any time, probably in the car or just without anyone around her, what’s to stop life from killing me too?”

“Stop!” Bertl hissed.

“All I’m saying is that life is short,” Reiner said. “And if anyone can die at any time, I might as well be honest as I can.”

Bertl gripped the ends of his sleeves, trying to stop himself from reacting like he was. He didn't have the heart to talk about Marcel yet.

“Fire away,” was all he said. He was shaking, and hated it.

“I know I was absolute shit to you when you came out,” Reiner said. “I was just shocked.”

“What’s that got to do with honesty?” he asked, reminded of when everyone suddenly acted differently around him as soon as he fucked up. Reiner wasn't even that rude compared to the rest of them, though.

Reiner ran his hand through his hair. “Gimme a sec.” He stood up, pacing into the kitchen. The fridge opened and closed. He came back with two beers in his hands. He sat down and placed one of the cans in front of Bertl. “I don’t even know why I’m saying this.” He popped the tab, foam seething out of the top. He took a long sip. “But I’m always used to having these unattainable crushes, you know? So I see you and think, 'Wow. He's perfect." He sighed and looked down at his hands. "Like, I actually thought you were an angel when I saw you, man. Tall, dark, and handsome and all that shit. And I thought I never had a chance with you then, wham, you're attracted to dudes..." Again, he sighed. "I couldn't believe that you were right in front of me and I actually had a chance with you. So I'm sorry. I should've handled it better.”

Bertl stared at Reiner. What? His grip loosened on Reiner. “Why are you saying this,” he said finally.

“Fuck if I know. It's my flaming gay hormones, I guess,” Reiner said. He took another long drink. “F'real though, life’s short.” Another drink. “Besides, if you’re going to live with me, I’ve gotta put all my cards on the table.”

“Oh,” Bertl said. He paused, absorbing what Reiner said fully. “Oh...” He had a hard time believing it.

The kitchen door opened and Annie came through. She was cleaner now, thank goodness. She didn’t stop as she paced across the living room, stepped into her room, and slammed the door shut.

Bertl blinked in disbelief at Reiner before he waved a hand.

“I guess I’ve got to...”

“Nevermind." Reiner cut Bertl off and got up. “I know a place where Annie can’t hear us.” He bent over and picked up both cans of beer. “Come on.”

Reiner put his shoes on and Bertl followed. “Wait, where are we going?”

“I’d use our own balcony but we don't want Annie around, you feel?”

He did. Reiner grinned, eyes glassy with alcohol, and opened the door. They ran down the hall. Bertl tried his hardest to stay quiet but it didn’t work. He ran in Reiner’s trail, noticing as Reiner stopped before the end of the hall. There wasa glass door, which Reiner opened and waited for Bertl to come through.

He did and slid the glass shut behind him as he stepped onto a balcony. The wind immediately greeted Bertl, biting at his cheeks. He watched the city lights mixing with Christmas decorations. Balconies on the apartments across the street were decorated with bright lights, and some were “animated” to look like dancing reindeer. He noticed Reiner’s face, lit in purple and gold so every angle was accentuated. His face was grim, a contrast to the the lights around him.

They leaned over the balcony, waiting for the other to talk first. Cars hummed below them, filling Bertl's ears. “I guess I’ve gotta talk about myself then, huh?” he asked.

Reiner nodded, fog billowing out of his mouth.

He wasn’t sure how much to tell, so he just started with, “My brother was hit by a car when I was a kid,” he said. He sighed. “Marcel. We were like… the best of friends. He'd fight off anything and everything for me. To be honest, I really needed it back then. We'd hang out at lunchtime and every recess, even though he was older than me.” He felt his hands shaking.

“I’m sorry about that,” Reiner said.

He was too. “It’s why I didn’t want you talking about how short life is. It really, really is, you know?” He shivered, to which Reiner handed him a beer.

“This one’s yours, you know. It’ll keep you warm.”

Bertl nodded, digging his nails beneath the tab and pulling it open. He hesitated before looking at Reiner. He took a swig, already feeling it warm his throat. “We were ten when it happened. A driver fell asleep on the road...” He felt his throat tighten up. “Marcel... he... dammit…” He gripped his can tighter and took a long drink. “He pushed me out of the way. One of the tires ran over my leg. Marcel was killed on impact.” He heard the can pop as it contracted beneath his grip. “Like I said, he fought off anything and everything." He forced himself to laugh at his joke, but was made all too aware of how raspy his voice was. "My parents blamed me for his death. I mean, _I_ blame me for his death.” He blinked snowflakes out of his eyes. “And hearing about Annie fainting like that, or even just thinking about it happening on the road...” He shuddered. “It’s terrifying. I don’t want anyone to go through that.”

Reiner nodded. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry for making you think of him again.”

Bertl felt his legs shaking. His cheeks wettened. “He’s gone now, there’s nothing you can do.” He took another drink, this time emptying the can.

He stiffened when he felt an arm tighten around his waist. He was pulled in closer and forced to look down at Reiner. His eyes were determined, just like Eren’s. “There isn’t,” he agreed. His hair was frosty enough to look white. He looked like an ice prince at that moment, but his eyes burned like fire. “But I can make sure that nothing like this ever happens again.”

Bertl was about to say something but was stopped as he felt Reiner’s mouth on his. His eyes widened and he was unsure of how to react. He fell into the kiss, letting his eyes close and holding Reiner close. The kiss was short, and when Reiner pulled away Bertl smelled alcohol on his breath. “Life’s shitty,” Reiner said. “But let me protect you from it, okay?"

Bertl was released from Reiner’s grasp, but he still stayed close to him. He leaned into Reiner again. His breath choked as he pressed his forehead against Reiner's. He let the tears flow freely now. Sobs racked through his body. Between the memory of Marcel and the kiss and Reiner saying he loved Bertl, he couldn't do anything more than cry over Reiner's shoulder. "Okay," he said between a breath. "Okay," he repeated.

Reiner loved Bertl. He couldn't believe it. And Bertl loved him back.


	12. Chapter 12

Bertl woke up the next morning on the couch, draped over Reiner. He was face-to-face with him.

His mouth was hanging open, and his legs were spread out over the table. He was still wearing his shirt though, so nothing bad happened. He sighed, trying to get out without waking Reiner up. He winced as he put too much weight onto Reiner's hips. There was a groan, and before Bertl could get up, Reiner's thick arm was around him and dragging him in.

"Morning," he said quietly.

Bertl didn't fight the embrace, but was still shaky as he said, "Morning."

Reiner's other hand ran through his hair, ruffling it slowly. "How're you?"

Bertl still felt like this was surreal. He could feel a splitting headache, though. "I'm good," he said quietly. "I... can't believe this," he said finally. "This sounds so stupid, but I've kinda always wanted this to happen, I just didn't think it would happen this fast, you know?"

Reiner laughed from beneath him, squeezing him tighter. "I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner." There was a deep breath, just behind Bertl's ears. "I feel you."

They were quiet for a while, a tangle of limbs, with Bertl lying face-up on top. Reiner scooted to the side with a sigh. Bertl slipped down between him and the couch.

He laughed, shutting his eyes tightly and rolling to meet Reiner. He calmed down as soon as he realized that Reiner was still holding him tightly. He could still feel the smile pulling at his face, though.

"I love you, you know?"

Bertl didn't nod. He laid there in a semi-shocked silence. He'd never heard that in so long. It felt like his heart had stopped. He let his arms fall over his chest, gripping Reiner's forearms. "I love you too," he said finally. He sighed, his nails digging into Reiner, but not enough that it would hurt. He let Reiner go when he felt him wince beneath him, and the hand that had been ruffling Bertl's hair reached for his arms. "Ouch."

He let go, and he looked at  Reiner's arms to see that his fingers left pink indents. "I'm sorry," he said, stiffening.

Reiner let out a weak laugh before rolling off the couch. Bertl filled the space, his twiggy body given more room to sprawl. "Don't worry about it." Bertl watched as he pulled himself up and brushed himself off, even though the carpets were immaculately cleaned. "You probably don't know your strength, right?"

Bertl actually wasn't that strong. He sighed, and sat up. Reiner leaned over and kissed his forehead. Whatever thoughts Bertl had disappeared, and he was left a stuttering mess before he remembered what he was going to say. "Guess... Guess I don't, then."

Reiner smiled. "Don't worry about it then. Now," Reiner looked around, before turning the TV off. "Let's get ready for work now, mmkay?"

Bertl brushed his hair down, suddenly made aware that he wasn't wearing his binder. "Sure," he said. "I'll be ready in a minute."

***

Work was slow. It always was, but at least Bertl was up to date on his documents now. He didn't househunt today. It still made sense to, but at the same time, he was officially with Reiner. It felt wrong to try to get away from him now.

But then again, he could still be Titan. He grimaced, looking down at his hands, shaking as they typed. Eren and Armin just had to be wrong. Reiner wasn't suspicious at all. Strong, sure. His eyes? A trick of the light.

Eren just had to be lying to get at Reiner. At least, that's what it seemed to be. Besides, nobody even knew if Titan was a regular person. He might just have appeared out of thin air.

He looked at his checklist because he couldn't think of anything else to do. He sighed, realizing that he was completely up to date on his assignments. He stretched, surprised that today was so vacant, but then again there wasn't even that much when he’d had two days' worth of work to do. He just had to keep working then, but it only took less than an entire work day. Now it was about three.

"Excuse me," he heard someone say. He looked up to see a short man, about 5'3, standing in the doorway. He had an undercut parted in the middle, and his bangs covered his eyes. He was that guy he'd met back at his first night at work. Leo? he couldn't remember his name to the life of him.

"Hello," Bertl said, unsure how to greet him. He was never seen around the office actually. Not even while they had left. His eyes were tired though, like he was constantly at work. Bertl didn't even know his position, though. "Need anything?"

"Actually." The man blew his bangs out of his face, leaning against the doorway to Bertl's cubicle. He was the man wearing capris in winter, he remembered. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out for some Timmy’s."

Bertl frowned, looking at his desk. Did he really have time to leave?

"It doesn't matter, really. You're done, right?" He sounded bored and irritated. Bertl had no clue why, though. He got up and met the man.

"Yeah," he said. He had to crane his neck downwards to meet the man's eyes, but even then he was  forced to look at bags under his eyes that could've been considered carry-on at an airport. He forced a smile. "Sure. We’ve got permission though?"

He nodded. "You're done, that's all that matters. You only get paid if you stay around, though." He cracked a light smile, even though he didn't tell a joke. "Come on, I think we need to talk.”

Bertl followed closely behind, making sure that nobody saw him with Leo. He ducked his head, ashamed. He really shouldn’t’ve been leaving, but he felt like this guy had something to say, and urgently. He followed closely, as he realized that this guy was carrying himself like he had some form of command.

“Keep up, will you?” he hissed, speedwalking down the halls. They left through the entry way, taking a flight of stairs down until they were on the streets. He kept walking at the speed he was at before until he stopped at a crosswalk.

As they waited for the light to change, the man yawned, loudly. Bertl didn’t understand what was going on. “This is about more than coffee,” he said finally, “isn’t it?”

As the wind blew on their face, the dark-haired man looked up at him, the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Yeah,” he said finally.

The light changed, and they started walking. Bertl realized he didn’t have his sweater on, but he didn’t feel cold. It scared him. “Well then,” Leo sighed. “Once we get there I’ll let you in on the details, but my name is Levi Ackerman, and I believe you’ve got some vital information for my case.”

Bertl stiffened, almost stopping on the road. “Vital information?”

“Tch.” He kept going. “I said I’ll tell you when we get to there. Now come on.”

The cafe was just at the end of the block, and Levi went in first. They ordered, Levi took a card, and they both sat down next to a window.

“So,” Levi said. “You’re a new kid at the office, right?”

Bertl nodded. “Yes sir, but I’m 24.”

“Still a kid.” A pretty waitress with the same haircut that Bertl once had came by, dropping off a tea and a hot chocolate in front of them. Levi thanked her, then continued when she left. “Either way, you’ve gotten pretty close to Reiner Braun, right?” He took a swig, staring at him.

He hesitated. “We’re just friends.” Did someone else think he was Titan?

“Don’t worry, kid, I wasn’t asking you about that. The question is, how much do you know about him?”

Bertl hesitated. He really knew nothing about him.

“Hm.” Another sip of his tea. “He’s really that secretive, huh?”

“What’s this about?” Bertl asked, hands gripping his cup tighter.

Levi sighed. “Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush about this, kid. I’m a cop, and I’ve been assigned to the Titan case. Mr. Braun’s our prime suspect at this point.”

Bertl could feel the blood draining from his cheeks. “Oh.” So this was more than just a theory from Armin and Eren? Who else was thinking about this? Obviously the police had an entire team dedicated to it. He couldn’t really be… “That’s impossible,” Bertolt said. “He’s not like that.”

Levi sighed. “I don’t need to present evidence to you, but I’ve seen enough of him to know something’s not right, and after seeing what that man can do and the evidence that our reports have of him? I wouldn’t trust him, Mr. Hoover.”

Bertl didn’t move. His hands burned from the cup between his hands. “I’m going to, you know.”

He sighed. “Whatever you say, then. The important thing is that we need more information. Presumably from someone who’s close to him.”

He shook his head. “I can tell him about this. He can tell you himself that he’s not Titan,” he said on impulse. He realized his mistake as soon as he said it.

“Then we can have you arrested too, you know. Give you a record, ruin your life… destroy your chances for adopting a kid with your little crush there.” He finished his tea off. “Think here for a second, Mr. Hoover. We’re just trying to get some more info so he doesn’t get wrongfully prosecuted. And if that’s not the case, then the man who turned your life upside-down will be behind bars. Maybe even executed.”

Bertl could feel his hands begin to quiver. He felt sick to his stomach at what Levi said, but knew that he was right. If he didn’t comply, he’d be ruined. He just… he just had to lie. They’d never find out… Reiner wasn’t Titan. He knew it.

“I understand,” he said. He could feel the cup becoming cool to the touch. “But I know Reiner isn’t Titan.”

“How well?”

“Like… the back of my hand.”

“Then pass it over.” Bertl gave his right hand, then watched as Levi covered it. “Now. How many scars are on the back of your hand?”

His hands were covered in scars, but long days of boredom gave him lots of time to count them and memorize their locations. “Twenty-seven,” he said.

Levi uncovered the hand and gave a fake frown. “Hm. There’re none.”

What? Bertl pulled his hand away and stared at it. There weren’t even stitch marks… What?

Levi got up, pulling his wallet out. “Hm. Maybe you know less about him then you think, Mr. Hoover. Keep an eye on him, okay? And if you see us on his doorstep tomorrow, you know what to do.”

Bertl nodded half-heartedly. Levi paid for both of their drinks and they left. As they walked out, he knew that this was bad for Reiner, and Bertl couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t talk the entire way back to Renderists. What was there for him to say? At this point, Reiner was doomed and Bertl couldn’t do anything about it besides hope that Reiner wasn’t actually Titan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: Also known as "I'm a giant sap but I also gotta start working on plot, whoops."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just putting a warning out here, but there's self harm in this chapter in case anyone is bugged by that. :)

As soon as Bertl got home, he ran into Reiner’s bathroom and locked himself in there.

He took off his t-shirt and dropped it on the sink, so that he was only in his binder and jeans. He took a look at the tops of his arms, his shoulders, just below his collar bones. He took what must have been the hundredth glance at his hand that day. His torso was just like his hands — scarless.

He knew that he had scars up and down himself. He knew this like he knew his deadname. He’d fallen so many times as a child. He’d never gotten bandaids for them, and he’d picked constantly. The scabs took months to heal, so his knuckles and palms were a mess of unhealed wounds and scars back then. And yet, nothing?

He hadn’t hallucinated years of his life. But still, his hands were smoother than a baby’s. Even his fingerprints looked softer in harsh bathroom light.

He felt sick, but he didn’t know why. This was impossible in every way. But Levi saw what Bertl was seeing now. His hands looked like they’d never even been scraped his entire life.

He tore his eyes away from his hands and stared at his face in the bathroom mirror, eyes wide. He ran his hand over his face. Were his hands the only thing that healed? He looked and felt for acne scars. None. His skin was completely clear. He felt even sicker.

Was he just healing rapidly?

His stomach dropped as he remembered what Eren and Armin were talking about. Reiner apparently healed rapidly too. That was apparently evidence to him being Titan.

Bertl wasn’t Titan. (A Titan, now that there were two?) He saw Titan face to face. He was a completely different entity. He wasn’t Titan.

Then that meant even if Reiner _did_ heal quickly, he wasn’t Titan. Healing rapidly wasn’t evidence for being Titan if Bertl was now doing it too.

Then why?

He stared, slack-jawed at his younger appearance. Maybe the weather was causing his scars to be less visible or something.

But what if he _was_ healing? He stared down at himself, unsure at how to test that. Hurt himself? If he wasn’t healing, it couldn’t be too large of a wound. It still needed to show evidence of him being hurt though. Like a punch.

Bertl stared down at his own hands and clenched them into a fist. He could hit himself. Maybe that would work. He started to swing, but instinct stopped him before his hand reached his face. That would hurt too much. He never wanted to get hit again, even if he did it by himself.

He could probably bite his tongue. Again, he tried but again, he softened the bite so it was only a dull press.

Maybe he could just floss. He never did it, so he could probably stab his gums with that and see how long it took for them to stop bleeding.

He wondered if Reiner noticed how long Bertl was in the bathroom.

It didn’t matter. He pulled down his bathroom bag from the shelf, containing a razor (which he wasn’t on T long enough for him to be able to use), a toothbrush, and a still-unopened roll of floss. He cracked it open and unravelled until he had a string a few inches long. He quickly ran it through his incisors, wincing as he felt the familiar jab of his gums opening. His teeth reddened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He could still get injured. Good.

Then the red hissed and evaporated away in a puff of smoke. His teeth were left white. It had stopped bleeding as soon as it started. He gaped. What?

Fog? Steam? What was that puffing out from his gums?

He should have bled for much longer. He ran his tongue over his teeth. He could only taste the faint mint that the floss left behind. His blood ran cold. He could… heal from any wound?

Any wound? He looked down at his hand and dug his nails into the thin skin above his knuckles, less afraid now. He could heal. How much though? Red pooled around his nails, and Bertl grimaced in pain. He didn’t know what he was trying to get at with this, but knew that something was wrong. He pulled back. The blood sizzled away into the same steam that came from his mouth. He watched the wound close together with thin ropes of flesh, scab over, then completely heal in seconds. His stomach churned as he watched himself heal. He looked at his nail and the bitten stub was dry.

“What the fuck?” he asked himself quietly. That same dread tugged at his stomach. It just got stronger. Any wound.. Any scar…

He looked down his pants to get a look at the injection scar on his thigh. Gone.

It hit him then. He’d never be able to get top surgery.

His scars would heal. His chest would grow back. They probably wouldn’t even be able to operate on him.

He felt sick. His knees started shaking. The rest of his body followed, his balance failing him. He slumped down against the sink, holding himself up with trembling fingers. He couldn’t transition any further than testosterone. He’d have a chest forever. He’d have to bind forever. He’d never be able to take his shirt off at a beach. He’d sit down to pee for the rest of his life. He’d bleed like a girl for the rest of his life. He’d essentially be a girl with a bit of extra hair for the _rest of his life._

His teeth clenched, and he looked down at his scarless hands. How did this happen? What caused him to heal? Why? His life was ruined. This power could have been given to anyone, and if he were anyone else he would have loved these powers.

But he was Bertolt Hoover. He was a trans man who needed to stab himself, to carve himself, to intentionally cut himself open to become the person he wanted to be. And that was just ripped from him because he could suddenly heal his wounds in a puff of smoke.

Why?


	14. Chapter 14

Bertl woke up the next morning with his hands around his wrists, gripping them tight enough that he might have broken skin if his nails were longer. He was on the couch still, wrapped tightly in a blanket and facing the back of it.  
  
His anxiety got the best of him as he realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he let go of his wrists to pull himself up. When did he take that off? Why?  
  
He kicked his legs out from the blanket, looking around to see if Reiner was awake.  
  
What day was it? He got up, pulling his blanket over his shoulders like a cloak.  
  
Where the hell did his shirt go? He needed to find it quickly, but right now it had disappeared. This was embarrassing, and he hoped Reiner didn’t see him. Maybe he already had. His breath hitched at that thought, and he searched even more frantically for his shirt. It wasn’t that hard to find.  
  
Another thought hit him. Where was his binder? He was definitely wearing it last night, and he certainly didn’t remember getting drunk at all. He yawned experimentally, but his breath wasn’t overly bitter tasting. It was almost still minty from when he brushed his teeth last night.  
  
He saw his tee and swooped over to pick it up. He gripped the blanket tighter with one arm and hid his shirt below the makeshift cloak.  
  
When he got up, he saw Annie staring down at him. “Morning, Bethany.”  
  
He stiffened at the name. It was the wrong girl name, but it still stung to be misgendered, especially when his chest was bare and his binder was hidden somewhere among the house.  
  
“Morning, Annie,” he said quietly. He pulled the blanket tighter over him as he made his way to his full height.  
  
“You have a good night last night?” She wasn’t smiling, so she wasn’t laughing at him, right? He still squared his shoulders to make himself seem bigger.  
  
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said slowly.  
  
“Lay off of him!” he heard Reiner say from another room. Probably the kitchen. “And don’t worry, Birdie, nothing happened last night!”  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god. The blanket loosened for a second so he pulled it higher.  
  
Then again, if anything happened, Bertl probably wouldn’t have still been in Reiner’s house. So then what happened?  
  
He stared down at Annie, then saw a smile crack on her lips. She started to laugh. “You totally fell for it. Anyways, Reiner’s making breakfast. He wants me to pick up some milk.” She ducked away from him. “You wanna come with me?”  
  
Bertl didn’t know what to say. He was about to, then realized what Levi had said yesterday. Leaving Reiner alone in the house was probably the worst thing he could do. “No thanks.” He looked back at the kitchen. “I think I should wake up a bit more.” In other words, he needed to find his binder -- wherever that was -- and get dressed.  
  
“Alrighty then.” She pursed her lips then ducked past Bertl. “Have fun then.”  
  
Bertl nodded, slowly taking in the sight of her walking past him and disappearing. He sighed, gripping his shirt tighter in his hand. He should get dressed. It’d be less awkward to get around the house if he could just cover his chest with something that didn’t trail behind him and make him look like he was three.  
  
He went down the hallway to the bathroom across from Annie’s room. He ducked in, shut the door, then let the blanket dropped. He winced at the sight of his chest, even though it was a completely unavoidable part of him. He glanced to the side of the sink and saw his binder hanging off the side. He visibly cringed, feeling his face warm. He picked it up and dropped his shirt. He pulled the binder on quickly, contracting his shoulders so that it would slip over easier. He adjusted it so that it didn’t tug at his chest uncomfortably, then pulled his shirt on. He checked himself in the mirror.  
  
He looked masculine enough, though he definitely felt like crap for missing last week’s testosterone shot. And the week before’s.  
  
He grimaced, taking a crooked grin and curling his lips. He really needed to get his shot. But then again, how would he explain that to Reiner? He already slept with a shirt, even though it always made him wake up mid-panic because he feared his binder was still on. He wasn’t going to explain why he needed to go to an endocrinologist when he still could barely afford a second shirt.  
  
He bundled the blanket up in his arms before leaving the bathroom. He dropped the blanket on the couch just as Annie left the apartment.  
  
He ventured into the kitchen, trying to stand proud despite the embarrassing state he was in. “Morning,” he said as he opened the kitchen door.  
  
Reiner twisted around from his pan, full of the mixed yellow and white tones of a beaten egg. “Morning, babe,” he said, smiling.  
  
Bertl blushed at the words, shaken just from them. Babe? “How’s it going?” he asked, realizing his stutter and the way that his mouth couldn’t form words. Christ, he loved Reiner. He wished he could say it even half as well as Reiner communicated it.  
  
He supposed he could start by telling him about the police. But then Reiner wasn’t Titan. Snitching would just ruin his chances of actually having a proper life with Reiner after he was questioned. He bit the scars on the inside of his lip to shut himself up before he said anything.  
  
“You ok?” Reiner asked, frowning.  
He was good. Bertl nodded. “Yeah,” he said. He walked up to Reiner and hazarded a kiss on his cheek. Before he met his cheek, Reiner twisted around and pecked him on the lips.  
  
He fell away, feeling his face warm up and his brain start to frazzle. “I’m... yeah... I’m...” He didn’t know what to say.  
  
Reiner chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, man. How do you like your eggs?”  
  
Bertl didn’t really care. He only had them fried, and liked the yolks cooked. “How do you make ‘em?”  
  
“Omelettes,” Reiner said immediately. “Mon Pere’s from Quebec, oui?” He sounded like he was trying for an obnoxious Quebecois accent, so Bertl couldn’t help but smile.  
  
Oh. He didn’t know that. He smiled as he saw Reiner reach beside the stove and grab a handful of greens. “What do you want in yours? Ham, chives?”  
  
Bertl’s mouth hung open, unsure of what to say. He stepped around Reiner to see the cutting boards that he’d prepared in a grid. This was... a lot...  
  
“Just ham and mushrooms?”  
  
He flushed even more as Reiner winced. “Just that? You’re not allergic to chives, are you?”  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“Then I’m adding them. Trust me, you’ll love it.” Reiner turned around, slipping past Bertl. He reached into a cupboard and pulled out a frying pan.  
  
Alright, then.  
  
Reiner turned on another burner. It lit up in seconds and Reiner put the pan on top of it. “Now go on.”  
  
Another kiss on Bertl’s cheek, rendering him useless again. “They’ll be ready in a couple of minutes.”  
  
Bertl nodded, his brain going into overdrive just to function. This was new, this was new, this was new. Jace was nothing like this. He stepped out of the kitchen, eyes wide. Shaken to say the least, he sat outside the kitchen.  
  
He screamed internally for a while. Sirens rang through his head, with red flashing that seemed to scream, “OVERDRIVE, OVERDRIVE, CRITICAL GAY IS BEING REACHED.”  
  
He dug his face into his hands, covering his mouth so he didn’t scream in joy and love.  
  
He leaned against the wall, sliding down until he was crouched against it. Holy shit, his mind said. This was it. This was love.  
  
He had no clue how he was so lucky to get Reiner. This was... this was amazing. He needed to do more for Reiner. After this was all over, at least.  
  
Maybe Levi was just lying to get Bertl to shut up about him to Reiner. If that was the case, it was working. He wouldn’t risk it though, if that wasn’t the case.  
  
The kitchen stopped sizzling, and Bertl heard a window slide open, so he got up and made his way to the couch. He made it quickly, making it look like he was useful at all.  
  
“Breakfast is ready!” Reiner called.  
  
Bertl finished making the couch and paced to the kitchen. Reiner was leaning against the counter, taking small bites out of his eggs. He cocked his head, smiling with his eyes close. He swallowed. “It’s over there,” he said. He took another bite. “Take it.”  
  
Bertl nodded as he went around Reiner to pick up the plate. They were just as tasty as the cheesy eggs from the night when Annie came in covered in blood. At least now, there wasn’t the threat of her dying.  
  
It was all actually pretty good, beside Levi’s threat looming over them. Even then, Reiner didn’t know, so the morning was only soured for Bertl.  
  
They ate in silence, Bertl trying not to wolf his down his eggs.  
  
He was almost done, twisting around to compliment the eggs, before he heard something knock on the door.  
  
Reiner didn’t move at first, but he could see his eggs slowly open. He swallowed. “I’ll... I’ll get it.” He set his plate of half-eaten eggs down on the counter before he left the kitchen.  
  
Bertl felt his blood freeze. No. No, dear God, no.  
  
He practically dropped his plate on the counter before running out to the living room.  
  
He could feel his breath hitch as Reiner opened the door. Bertl’s heart stopped as a familiar face met him.  
  
Those dark eyes with even darker bags beneath them. The undercut parted in the middle. It was him.  
  
Fuck. No, please...  
  
“Excuse me, Reiner Braun?” Levi said. “I’m with the Toronto RCMP.”  
  
“Ah,” Reiner said. Bertl could hear his voice quiver. “Alrighty then... Come in.” He didn’t move out of the doorway though. He laughed nervously. “Is there... anything you’d like to talk about...?”  
  
“Yes actually.” There was a pause, and Bertl knew what was coming next. “You’re under arrest as the prime suspect in the Titan case.”


	15. Chapter 15

Bertolt felt his heart stop in his chest. No, no, no, this wasn’t happening. He knew that it was coming and yet he still couldn’t bring himself to accept it. But then why was he?

“You’ve got the wrong man,” Reiner said, backing away from the door.

Why was he so desperate to stop Reiner from going in for questioning? If he really believed Reiner was a good man, then he shouldn’t have a problem with it.

He hated himself for even thinking that. He saw Reiner grip the doorknob tighter. “Mr. Ackerman,” Reiner said. “I appreciate that you think highly enough of me that—” He could hear the joking tone in his voice, but it didn’t stop Levi.

“Sir, your car has been near the scene of every Titan attack.”

Bertl realized that was probably true. It was probably why Reiner found him so quickly after the titan attack that destroyed his house.

No. That wasn’t it. It couldn’t be it.

“It wasn’t my car then. I’ve got a common model.”

“T0L-3XY isn’t a common license plate, Mr. Braun.”

Bertl heard Reiner’s breath hitch. “I understand,” Reiner said. “But you can’t take me in. I’m not your guy.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind being taken in for questioning,” Levi said.

Bertl swore beneath his breath. This was all his fault. He should have shut up about Reiner or disagreed with Eren and Armin. Fought harder against them. That didn’t even matter in the end.

He shouldn’t have been so damn selfish when he was talking to Levi. He should’ve just told Reiner about what was going on. Instead of eating breakfast he should’ve been helping Reiner get out of town.

But then he’d be just affirming Reiner’s guilt.

“Reiner...” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Let me at least turn off my stove,” Reiner said.

“I’m sure Bertolt can do that,” Levi said. He leaned over behind Reiner, flashing a smirk. “Can’t you, hun.”

Bertl gripped the couch harder. He was a fool. A fucking idiot, more like.

“Yeah...” Then the door slammed, dragging Bertl out of his thoughts. The door locked. Reiner ran over to Bertl. “We’ve gotta go,” Reiner said. Bertl noticed the wild frenzy in his eyes. “To the balcony or something. Just...”

He heard Levi already kicking on the door.

“We’ve got a minute. Maybe,” Reiner said. “I filled the door with two-by-fours.”

“The hinges,” Bertl said, not even thinking about Reiner’s guilt any more.

“I replaced the nails. That door’s not going to go as quick.”

Bertl nodded, feeling his heart thud in his chest. What was going on? Why? How were they going to get out of this?

Panic started to set in, and by the way Reiner was running through the house, he was panicking too.

“Listen, I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but I can’t get taken in.”

Bertl nodded. He knew it’d come to this, so he just tried to listen to Reiner. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, trying to suppress his emotions. He needed to stay calm. He needed to deal with this correctly.

“Wait by the window,” Reiner said. He ran into the kitchen, and drawers flew out unabashedly, cutlery falling to the ground. He ran out of the kitchen with a knife in his hand.

***

Mikasa Ackerman was in position. She waited for the radio to give her the cue.

All she heard on the radio was the report from her uncle. “Captain Ackerman here,” he said through clenched teeth. “He’s locked us out and has reinforced the door. We’re getting a sledge from the car, but shoot when he’s in position.”

“Got it,” she said. She laid down on the balcony of an abandoned apartment, poking her gun through the black iron bars. “Shoot to kill?” she asked. She made sure that nobody heard her. Part of her training.

“Yes,” was Levi’s reply after another fit of cursing.

“Understood.” She looked through the scopes, her rifle tracing the windows and looking for Reiner Braun’s head. She was only supposed to kill him. The other man living in the house wasn’t to be harmed, and neither was his sister.

She let her finger rest on the trigger as she caught him running into the living room. He was carrying a knife? This wasn’t going to be a suicide, would it? It had happened before.

Then Braun got behind the taller man waiting for him, effectively shielding himself. Did he know? She hoped to God he didn’t.

“Sir, he’s using another man as cover.”

“Dammit...” There was another pause, and Mikasa took the time to shiver from the cold. “If you have to shoot the other one, go for his leg.”

“Nevermind,” she whispered into her earpiece. She caught sight of his blonde hair peeking out from his shield’s shoulder, and with the way that the teller man was jittering about, there’d be no time until he had an opportunity.

Then she got her opportunity. His forehead was fully visible from just between the shield’s neck and shoulders.

She steadied her aim, letting her red dot rest on Braun’s forehead. She fired.

***

The first thing Bertl felt was a fiery pain in his neck as something tore through skin. The force and shock threw him to the ground. What hit him? Instinctively, sitting down on the floor, he stuck a hand on his neck.

It was warm and wet, dripping with his own blood.

“Holy shit,” Reiner said. He looked up, then his head went down to see Bertl. “Oh God,” was all Reiner said. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He tried to call for help, but the blood was flowing too freely from his neck that he could barely think.

His vision blurred, but Bertl saw Reiner lift his knife. “We’ll get you out of here.”

Bertl felt something wrap around his body. He felt something pull him into place and through the pain could feel something growing on his face. He wasn’t delirious, was he? He forced his eyes open and noticed that there was something. Something was etching into his face, burrowing its way in.

Reiner’s eyes widened as he drove his knife into his arm, and for Bertl, everything went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge apology for taking so long to update! I promise the schedule will get more regular soon.


	16. Chapter 16

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

There wasn't any time. They had to get out now. Why'd Bertolt have to do that? Appear with a giant explosion, walk a few steps, then just... fall out of his form, crashing at the ground 60 metres below. Was he even okay?

He needed to find him. He used his height to his advantage. His eyes followed the path of destruction that Bertolt had left behind up to where it stopped.

Why the fuck did he transform too? He looked like he couldn't have been another, but then again, Annie looked like that too. What the fuck did Reiner know?

Not much apparently.

His eyes rested on Bertolt on the ground, tiny against the rubble around him.

Reiner left his Titan self on the ground, clambering out of its neck for him to reach Bertolt. He was crumpled on the once-icy ground, now covered with running water from the heat that came from Bertolt's titan form. God, the heat.

He was only glad that Annie wasn't there for him to scorch. If that was the case, Reiner wouldn't have known what to do with himself. At least with Reiner, there was only a flash of lightning. But then again, Bertolt's titan was nearly three times his size.

God, he just needed to wake up.

"Please, man," he whispered. His throat tightened, his heart thudding painfully against his chest.

Every cop (and person) in a hundred-metre radius had just been incinerated. The apartment building was a burning wreck, at least what wasn't completely destroyed. God, this was bad. Worse than if he'd just been arrested alone... Escaped alone... God fucking dammit, it was complicated now and Bertolt was hurt because of him.

"Bertolt!" he shouted. He didn't respond. Reiner leaned in front of Reiner's ear. "Wake up!" he said into both ears, tapping his shoulders roughly.  
He was breathing, but still wouldn't respond.

In the distance, he heard distant sirens. Police, Fire Department, and the ambulances of course. The sirens burned his ears, now far more sensitive since his first transformation.

There were footsteps, causing Reiner to whip his head up. What?  
He listened, realizing they were far away. He picked Bertolt up, not feeling the effort, but the limpness in his body was scary. Terrifying almost.

"Bertolt, please," he whispered.

He noticed the steady rise and fall of Bertolt's chest. He was asleep. Fainted.

It made sense, at least. Reiner and Annie both were tired after their first. With how much energy was expended on their transformations, it only made sense.

Right now, they had to get out of town though.

He hunted around for his car, but it was probably destroyed too. Annie had at least gone to the store, so maybe that was where it was. Either way, Annie was safe and Reiner needed to get out of town.  
Bertolt too.

He swore at himself, running down the alley, splashing in puddles as he went.

This was terrifying. This was wrong. This shouldn't have happened like this. He hissed as he slipped, falling and rolling over Bertolt's body. He didn't wake up, though there was a soft grunt. He got up, pants now soaked, and picked up Bertolt's sodden body. His skin felt like it was on fire. God...  
How could Bertolt of all people transform? It felt wrong in all honesty. Bertolt was just a normal guy. A beautiful man, tall and dark and handsome, but still normal. He wasn't supposed to be able to turn into (a?) Titan too. Did he know about Reiner then? Did he know that Reiner destroyed his house?

Fuck. He probably hated him. He probably just wanted to get close to Reiner to hurt him. God, how long had Bertolt been able to transform? Could Titans all know other Titans?

Were they related?

Fuck, that was an even worse thought. He kept running, periodically checking on Bertolt. He was safe, he was still breathing, and when Reiner placed one finger over his jugular he could feel a pulse.

Just asleep, just asleep, just asleep.

The puddles started to freeze over until again he was crunching on snow, leaving bare footprints. Fuck. He'd be easily traceable. He might need to transform again, but then that would be worse. He'd be even more visible, but he'd also be faster.

Goddammit. It shouldn't have ever come to this.

He shouldn't have fallen in love with Bertolt, he was just dragging himself into more trouble. Goddammit, goddammit, goddammit. Why him? Why Bertolt. He hissed beneath his breath as he let Bertolt down.

He could get into the forest outside of town and deform there. He just needed the speed and power while he was in the range of the cops. He kneeled over Bertolt, his hand quivering. He had to do this. He bit his hand as hard as he could, willing himself to transform. His mouth filled with quickly-drying blood, but no transformation. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!  
He couldn't transform now? Why?

He twisted back, hearing the police sirens slowing down and stopping at the building. He needed to move, and now.  
Bang.

Reiner ducked as something clipped his ear and landed in the snow in front of him with a splat of red. What the fuck? He got up, scooping Bertolt up in his arms and twisting towards whoever did that.

They were the footsteps from earlier. They weren't far away, just faint. An asian woman with black hair and a bright red scarf torn to shreds stood in front of her. She was injured, her leg twisted at an odd angle. ”Freeze," she said, her voice hoarse.

She was burnt all over her face, and her hair was thin, bald in some patches. Bertolt’s transformation really did its damage…

Her scarf was barely anything more than shreds and her gun was charred black. It was a miracle it still worked, but it looked like a military-grade sniper. Reiner froze in his tracks, then started to slowly step back.

"I won't..." She coughed, hoarse and broken. "I..” She coughed again, and Reiner took another step. “I won’t hesitate.”

He wouldn't hesitate to run. He clenched his jaw, then twisted around and started running. She was weak. She could barely talk, her aim was going to be worse.

Just keep going, just keep going. He turned, Bertolt nearly sliding out of his arms, but he readied him and kept running.

He needed to run, faster now. He could feel himself getting tired now. He needed to...

His eyes rested on a car in an open garage. It was open, and Reiner climbed in, praying against it all that this was owned by the type of person to always leave their keys in the car.

Please... He swore as he hunted around, his mind sharp and clear and high on adrenaline as he pulled open the dashboard cubby. There, a set of keys glimmered, and he snatched them up hungrily.

Bang. Another shot down the alley, but he doubted the woman knew where they were.

Run, run, run...

He laid Bertolt down in the passenger seat after unlocking the car, then got in the driver's seat and pulled out of the garage.

He was sorry for whoever owned this car, but he needed it more. He just needed to get out of town. Someplace he wouldn't be found. Then after Bertolt woke up, they'd get even further out.

He drove down the alley, going at twice the speed limit out of panic. He ducked down in case that woman shot at him again, but found his way onto a road. Now, for the fastest way out. Then they'd be safe. At least for a little while.


	17. Chapter 17

  
Bertl woke up feeling… nothing. He wasn’t dizzy, he wasn’t cold, his back (which usually hurt) didn’t. But he woke up to blinding white around him at all sides.

  
He wasn’t dead? Was he? He probably was. He could feel his heart pump faster, but he couldn’t move. What?

  
Where was he? What happened?

  
He rolled over, noticing how wet his shirt, binder, and sleeves were. He was… soaked all over. And he didn’t feel cold at all. His eyes started to focus on white grains of ice frozen on top of snow, and he noticed that his breath was fogging.

  
But… he should be dead if that was the case.  
In a wave of panic, he managed to sit up. He took a deep breath. No. No panicking. Not here. But… where was he?

  
“Easy there,” a familiar voice finally said.

  
He twisted around, a wave of dizziness finally hitting him, to see Reiner sitting down beneath a… pine tree.

His ears were bright red, patching black. He steamed all over and he was in nothing but the pajamas he was wearing yesterday…

  
Yesterday? No… he was dreaming or something. Nothing happened yesterday that would throw them into this kinda situation.

  
But… something did. Something happened, and it was horrible and -- a wave of panic started to rise in Bertl and no amount of deep breathing would stop it.

  
He was shot.

  
He was fucking -- he shot a hand to his neck with a gasp, then realized it had healed.

  
“It’s ok,” Reiner said.

  
A dream? This had to be. He noticed the pines around him and the grove they were in. His hand, still on his neck, realized that he could feel… grooves on it. The streaks were deep.

  
A dream, definitely. Please.

  
Reiner got up, walked down the grove, and squatted in front of Bertl. “You’re ok?” He grinned down at him, halfheartedly. Oh. Bertl could feel a coldness creeping up him, and he took a second to try and breathe. They were shaky… they were flaking black, and they looked waxy and disgusting and dying. He had frostbite, but… the black flesh peeled off and fresh skin replaced it seconds later.

  
This… this had to be a dream. He couldn’t have gotten shot and he couldn’t be out in the woods with Reiner, at least without a good reason. And… nothing happened. Getting shot was part of the dream.

  
Along with the panic a dread started to form. He didn’t know why, but… something was wrong.

  
“You don’t remember what happened, do you?” Reiner held his hand out, and Bertl was hesitant to take it.

  
“No.”

  
Reiner’s face fell.

  
“What happened?”

  
He took a sigh, got up, and put his hands in front of his face. He whispered something so quiet even Bertl couldn't have heard it, then said, “I should’ve known this was going to happen.”

  
Bertl felt his skin crawl, and shifted his weight so his side wasn’t dipping into the puddle that was forming below him… It was the middle of December, why was there a puddle? And why was it below him?

  
“Reiner, tell me what happened..” He could feel the edge in his voice and regretted it but he didn’t want to apologize.

  
“You… I…” There was a loud, groaned “fuccck…” as Dream-Reiner now started pacing. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  
“Sleeping on the couch last night.”

  
“Oh… oh god you’ve got no clue.” His face completely fell. Shit.

  
Finally, Bertl could feel the anger rising. “What happened, Reiner?” he practically shouted.

“The cops came for me,” he said finally. “They came to our door at breakfast and they… fuckk..”

“What happened.” He realized that he couldn’t feel the cold of the snow. Then the memories started coming back.. This wasn’t a dream.

Fuck.

“You were the prime suspect in the Titan case --”

“And they’re right,” Reiner choked out. “They are completely right and I hid behind -- there was a sniper there and you got shot and you…” Another pause.

Spit it out, he wanted to shout, but Reiner looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“I don’t know why it happened to you, it should’ve happened to me, and it did I guess but you -- I -- we both transformed into Titans.”

Then there was silence. Long and drawn out and Bertl felt like the world was crumbling on them. everything felt tense and wrong. 

  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Reiner finally exploded. “Why didn’t you show up before? We aren’t alone? You wanted to take me back to wherever you came from, too? Why did you lie for so long? You had to know about me being Titan. Right?”

Reiner’s yell was deep, strained, terrifying and the sound of a man’s screams were all to familiar to Bertl. He couldn’t breathe, his throat started to tighten. That happened… That happened and Bertl couldn’t remember any of it, he didn’t want to remember. And Reiner really was Titan.

“I don’t know. I didn’t know --”

“Bullshit, Birdie! There’re millions of people in this city. Just two random guys who just so happen to have it end up getting together? Was everything fake? Fucking everything?”

No. It wasn’t. He really liked Reiner. He really did. Nothing was fake or wrong with that and it.. It hurt so much to see Reiner like this, but he could feel the breath in his throat tightening and the sobs starting. “No,” he said finally. His breath jumped in his throat, and they came harder. “I had no clue this would happen, I’m so sorry.”

Another silence, and Bertl couldn't see Reiner, but he could hear the crunch of snow as he got closer.

“Fuck, Birdie, I’m so sorry. I didn't need to say that," he breathed.

He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to scream actually. Reiner did that. Reiner destroyed his apartment. Why?  
He could feel his lips quiver as he wanted to say it, but his throat was to dry to do anything. His tongue was paralyzed.

“Do you want help up?” he asked weakly.

He didn’t want anything from Reiner, his mind prodded him. No, he mouthed, but again no sound came out.  
He appeared to get the message, as he clenched his jaw and stood silent for a moment… “I’m so, so sorry,” he said again. “I’m Titan, you’re Titan too.. A titan…?”

He pulled himself out of the tight netting and fell into the snow, but he didn’t feel the cold. Why?

“You can’t go back to the cops,” he said finally. “They know about you, they know about me…” There was a pause and as Bertl got to his feet (shakily), he could see Reiner covering his mouth. “Annie… Oh God, Annie…”

Annie? What about her?

“They’re going to take her in for testing or something. That’s the only thing that’ll happen. A polygraph, blood tests…” Reiner was on the verge of panic and it wasn’t helping Bertl.. Through the ice forming in his chest it started to pick through, and Bertl could feel the tears on his eyes.

He actually was one… He could transform into one and it explained it all. His healing… that might explain why couldn’t feel the cold…

“I..” He couldn’t say any more and didn’t know if he even wanted to say any more. The panic wasn’t subsiding but he didn’t want Reiner to notice him. He didn’t want Reiner around, but now they were stuck here.. In the wilderness.. Cops on both of their asses..

“Bertolt, I’m so sorry we got into this, but at this point there’s no --” a heavy sigh and his shoulders shook, “There’s no way to get out of this, so we’ve gotta be able to stick it out. And I know you probably hate me and i deserve it but…”

“I get it,” Bertl finally said.

“So do you want to stay with me until this is over? Not like it was, maybe never like it was but... please”

No. But.. “What other choice do I have?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. I tried to make it an alright chapter but.. it still feels like a mess to me :/. I mean, the situation IS a mess, but yeah.   
> Also, posting on mobile so the formatting might be screwy. hope not though.


	18. Chapter 18

The last few days were… tense, to say the least. Bertl didn’t say anything, and Reiner tried to start conversation once or twice, but there was no point. They just… walked aimlessly, planlessly.

They were starving, but at least whenever they picked up the snow in their hands, it would melt almost immediately. So they weren’t dehydrated… that was about the only good thing Bertl could say about the entire situation.

Now, it was about midday, and that steam poured off of every part of their bodies, and they left a trail of black, frostbitten flesh wherever they went. Bertl tried to make his steps kick up more snow to hide it, but even then there would be a trail of disturbed snow. 

“We’re… we’re gonna get caught soon,” were the first words out of Bertl’s mouth after three days. His lips stung just by saying it, the seal of frozen tears and old saliva breaking painfully. 

“You act like I don’t know that,” Reiner huffed.

“So then what are we going to do?” He didn’t want another fight to break out, but it was bound to happen.

“We’re doing something right now,” Reiner said through gritted teeth. “We’re looking for someone.”

How? And who?

“He was this… fucking creep I knew. Doc… did... ” He trailed off and slowed down. “Don’t wanna talk about it. But Annie and I both knew him, and he might be the reason behind this. Dunno how, but… It had to be someone.”

Bertl tried to think of any people that fit the description. Reiner was the first word that popped into his head, and it wasn’t wrong, but clearly he wasn’t the person that started this all.

But Reiner was right. There had to be someone or something. Nobody naturally had the ability to do this… but why them?

Reiner paused, his eyes lowering to the ground. “We knew him when we were in elementary. So like… 12, 13 years ago, maybe.”

“What if I don’t know anyone like that?” he asked, feeling the fatigue drip out of his words. Or anger and exhaustion. He couldn’t tell which any more. Every breath sounded like that.

“Know a Dr. Hunter?” Reiner shot back at him.

He did. And the name brought so many unpleasant memories for Bertl. He wasn’t a doctor though, as far as he’d known. Hunter was maybe some kinda university professor, and he was supposed to be monitoring the levels of stress hormones in kids. Like it was supposed to be some kind of study.

It made sense that he was a doctor, looking back at it.

“No,” Bertl finally said. He instantly felt awful for holding back the information, but… This was going to be fruitless, and they wouldn’t be able to find Hunter anyways, no matter what.

“Well, know an Eren Hunter?”

To that, Bertolt froze. Eren…

“They’re related, I think.”

“Then Eren would be another Titan.”

“Would he? Hunter was sick sure, but… I doubt even he would do something like that to his son.”

Yeah… that made sense, but he didn’t doubt that Dr. Hunter would’ve done it… He remembered that one time that he had to stay overnight at the university hospital because the doctor had an idea. He shuddered just remembering it.

“I guess,” was all Bertl said. 

“So what are we going to do?” He watched as Reiner grabbed the branch above him and shook the icicles off.

“I dunno,” Reiner said finally. “I think now might be the time to…” He made a clasping motion with his hands. “Get a hold on another shifter, don’t you think?”

If Bertl’s blood could have gotten any colder, it would have froze. “I… I’m not going to kidnap someone.” He felt lightheaded at the thought. 

“You’re already my accomplice —“

“I’m not an accomplice because I didn’t help you —“

“You helped me escape, didn’t you?”

He didn’t have anything to say to that. “I… I’m not a criminal though. You are, and you pulled me into this. You’ve basically kidnapped me.”

“Cops aren’t gonna believe that. You’re a shifter too, so we’re both dead meat.”

There was a silence. Bertl breathed out a cloud of steam. Reiner was right, and he hated it. He hated it so much.

“I didn’t ask for this…”

“Neither did I,” Reiner said, much calmer now. “But if you don’t want your powers, then why aren’t you doing anything to get rid of them?”

He didn’t know. He sure as hell didn’t want his powers, because they were getting in the way of every single goal for the future that he had, but… he’d rather have them if getting rid of them hurt people. But… “You’ve had them for a year…”

Reiner sat down beneath a pine. “I thought I was alone for a year… I could have lived with these powers on my own but… as soon as someone you care about catches these…” He pinched the space between his thin brows. “It suddenly becomes a lot more important to me.” He shut his eyes, then opened them to stare Bertl, like he was trying to send a message.

“If you cared about me, you wouldn’t have destroyed my house,” Bertl blurted.

“I…” Reiner trailed off. “You’re right. And I’m sorry.” He looked back down at the snow. “But I care now… and I can’t handle the thought of you suffering through these powers.” As he said it, flakes of his own skin fell to the ground, and steam quick replaced it before soft pink flesh took over.

“Oh…” Bertl couldn’t help but feel disarmed, and he sat down too, about 5 feet away from Reiner. “I guess.”

There was a sad chuckle from Reiner. “So… I know you said you didn’t know anything about Hunter, but there was this study. It was about stress hormones and shit, but either way… He did some nice things that first day. He took some measurements, then released us into a room with the other participants, and then we played and stuff… and then we got more blood samples taken of course, but he was nice for that first bit.”

“Oh,” Bertl said again. That was… exactly the same study that Bertl was at… 

So Reiner must’ve known him at one time. He hoped that Reiner wouldn’t remember him, but then again, if he was trying to find Bertl in that mental crowd of kids, he wouldn’t be looking for a girl.

“Then he got worse… One time he took Annie away and told me he’d accidentally killed her. Then he’d tied me down and took yet another blood sample, and I should have known it was a lie then, but I was young, and…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath, then continued. “After, he left me tied down and crying my eyes out for hours… Part of the study was that we were there all day, every Saturday… And then he’d taken another blood sample because I’d been stressed for so long, then told me Annie actually was alive, and allowed her into my room. He’d apparently told her the same thing. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d done, and we were both told that we weren’t allowed to tell our parents anything because it was top-secret. Fucker had us like putty in his hands… but why?”

This was too familiar to what the doctor had said to him. Back when Marcel was still alive, he’d pulled the exact same stunt on him.

They definitely had the same Doctor Hunter.

Everything was quiet for a short while, both of

“Either way… we need to get to Eren again.” He pulled a branch off of the pine above him so there was space for his head. He set it down in front of his feet. “Just so we can at least get closer to his father. And we don’t need to kidnap him, if you’re not into that.”

He didn’t know anyone who would be, and threw a look at Reiner.

He apparently got the signal. “I… ok, yeah. I’m not into it either. I’m just… reckless. And can’t remember half of the things I do…”

Oh… “Ok. Then, yeah. Let’s not kidnap Eren.”

Reiner sighed in relief. “But you’re going to help me get to him?”

Bertl nodded. “I’ve already said that I will.”

“Thanks,” Reiner said. He paused before saying, “I love you.”

Bertl didn’t respond. He just wanted to be normal again, and Reiner’d done too much to be in his future fantasy, so as far as he was concerned, they were just partners. 

Or as Reiner had put it… accomplices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter before the new year/bertday happens!


	19. Chapter 19

… They did a lot of step retracing. There wasn’t a lot of snow, and in all honesty they’d done a shitty job at making sure they weren’t found. 

Bertolt wasn’t complaining though, in all honesty. The idea of being completely left out there to starve because they couldn’t find their way back was enough to make him want to cry.

But they were ok. And because of that he didn’t scream till his throat burned. 

By the beginning of the first night, they were ready to lay down and sleep, however uncomfortable it was, but then Bertl noticed that the sky was… brighter than back out in the country. Of course… “Light pollution,” he muttered sleepily. His legs were jello. Not cold, but definitely overworked. 

“Huh?” Reiner asked. 

“Light pollution,” Bertl repeated. The drowsiness was getting to him and he couldn’t do much more than stare up at the yellow-black sky and blink at it. 

“Of course,” Reiner said, jolting up out of the snow cover he was in. Steam poured off of his soaking shirt. 

“You’ve got it, Bertl!” Another sleepy blink at the sky. 

“Huh..?” He just wanted to sleep… no ideas now. Just sleep.

“C’mon… we’ve just gotta follow the light pollution… get up, c’mon!”

No. Don’t wanna. He could already feel his thoughts getting hazy, and at this point he had stopped feeling the cold anyways, so the softness of the snow was enough to lull him into sleep. Or at least, try to. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of every thought in his head quieting down, but just as soon as the bliss began it felt like he was ripped out of it. “Birdie come on!”

“Don’t wanna,” Bertl muttered back at him. He was basically dug out of the snow, but he could barely even move, because of the damn cramping in his legs. And everything was wet and miserable, and at this point he was more frozen skin than living skin. Just some sleep. Please, he wanted to beg, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Please,” Reiner pleaded. He sighed, then Bertl could feel Reiner’s large hands beneath his neck, and he was being lifted from his snowy blanket. Clearly, Reiner expected him to stretch his legs out and reach the ground. That didn’t happen, and Bertl was almost dropped before Reiner realized. 

“You’re really that tired, huh..?” Reiner asked.

He nodded his head, and Reiner held him closer, the action making Bertl want to jump out of his arms (if he was able to catch his balance and not fall asleep mid-stride, then he would have)

“Well, ok. I’ll carry you then.”

“Thanks, Reiner.”

Bert could hear the crunching as Reiner walked through the snow. The top layer was powdery and Bertl couldn’t help but twist his head to watch it gliding over itself. Reiner’s footsteps (with their combined weight) were enough to break the icy second layer of snow, which plunged again into more powder. The walk was full of slow rises, and quick, bumpy falls, and Bertl knew that he wouldn’t get any sleep. That was ok, though. He could stay there, in Reiner’s arms. He just had to ignore that he was in  _ Reiner’s  _ arms. 

The worst thing about this entire situation is that they probably had met before. They’d probably been in the same room together, and Reiner knew Bertolt back when he was young. His mind started to pick up speed as the same thoughts that had been running through his head started to float to the surface of his brain again. Reiner would probably remember Bertl some time. There’d be this eureka moment in Reiner’s head, and Bertl would lose the only person who’d ever actually cared for him…

As much as he hated to say it, Reiner had in fact cared. He had no clue that Bertl was a shifter. He just… didn’t need to destroy everything Bertolt had in order to ask him out.

If it had turned out differently, then none of this would have happened. And Reiner would be out here alone… 

He looked down at his own hands, dark blue and flaking away with a constant steam trail falling behind them, then looked up at Reiner, whose face was set in the same way that Titan’s was when Bertl had seen the monster in person. Something twinged inside of him at the idea that Reiner would be aimlessly hunting for Eren or Dr. Hunter without any clue of what to do, or without any way to head back home.

The thought was scary, even if Bertl still couldn’t forgive him.

He was made dimly aware of Reiner staring down at him, concern etched on his face. “You alright down there?” he asked as he took another step and fell through. The bump was enough that Reiner almost dropped Bertl, but he quickly grabbed him and pulled him back up. “Sorry.”

“S’okay…” he murmured. He was tired, and hadn’t eaten in a week. Which was probably why he was tired. And he didn’t exactly have any fat stores to give him energy. He was almost 30 pounds underweight for his height…

“Didn’t you say you were heavy?” Reiner asked, a chuckle in his voice.

“Huh…?” Bertl replied.

“When we first met…” Reiner looked down, and Bertl could see the shine of a tear in his eye. “You wouldn’t let me carry you, because you said you were heavy.”

“Oh.” He closed his eyes, remembering Sasha and Connie tromping down the icy sidewalk. 

The feeling of rising, then abruptly falling soon became rhythmic, and Reiner’s pace slowed down. He remembered the light in Reiner’s eyes as he grinned and asked Bertl if he wanted to join in the fun. He was so accepting of Bertl. Why?

“Why did you want to carry me?” Bertl asked. “Back then.” There was another fall, and Bertl could feel a dull throb in his head. He remembered how Reiner was only friendly in a coworker kind of way with a lot of the others. He outright hated Eren too. Maybe that was just part of his facade, as well. “Why weren’t you like… suspicious of me?”

“Why would I be?”

“I was new. You’re Titan… Why would you risk ruining it all? What if I was a cop--”

His pacing stopped, and he let Bertl down after a pause. “I...” Reiner sat down beside him. “Listen, Bertolt. I don’t know what the truth is about you. I know that you’re another titan. I know that you lie about things. I don’t know how much you lie, and I don’t know what caused us to meet.” He sighed, crossing his legs and looking at the stars before murmuring something unintelligible, even though Bertolt’s hearing was more sensitive now. He glanced back down, the yellow, light-pollution-soaked sky casting enough illumination on them that Bertl could see how glassy Reiner’s eyes were. “I don’t know if I should have been suspicious of you even now, and I don’t know if I was in love with a persona.”

The last sentence hurt, and injury tugged at Bertolt’s stomach. “I don’t know either,” he whispered as he lowered his eyes. “I don’t know  _ you _ , either…”

He continued. “All I know is that I was in love with the tall boy who I saw at the publishing house. His soft hair, his green eyes… Then I met you, and I fell in love with how… amazing you were. Your smiles, the way you carried yourself. The ways you laughed and you cried, and…” He sighed, eyes even glassier. “I was in love.”

Bertl couldn’t help but let out a chuckle that was more bitter than it should. “But you still dragged me into this...” he murmured without thinking against it.

There was a silence. Reiner stared down at the snow he was sitting in, dragging his hand through his hair. Then Bertolt saw his shoulders heave upwards, then shudder downwards. “I did,” Reiner said quietly, breath ragged. “I’m so sorry, Birdie…”

It wasn’t ok… There were too many feelings. He was too angry at Reiner for destroying everything, making him a criminal because he couldn’t just fess up, or not even become Titan in the first place. There was still the part of him that wanted Reiner back. To lay down on his couch and kiss him, again and again, and act like none of this had happened. Or the other part that wanted nothing to do with Reiner, but also wanted him not to go through the winter alone. Alone and starving just like they both were. He wanted the misery to have company, still. He couldn’t settle on one feeling, so he just stared at Reiner as he started to sob, unable to do anything but conjure up sympathy he didn’t know how to express.

Finally, he sat up and leaned into Reiner. He wrapped his frozen arms around the steaming man, and held him close. He hugged tighter, feeling every shuddering breath. “I shouldn’t have brought you into this,” Reiner said, voice cracking. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have done anything that I did… I’d have run away alone, and stayed out here alone, and you’d be warm and happy and safe...”

Again, the thought of Reiner freezing and starving to death alone, without anyone nearby to at least think his ideas through with so he’d just get more and more lost, was too much to bear. Bertolt hated that he was, but he was glad he was out here too. At least Reiner had someone. He still wished that he wasn’t that someone, but at least Reiner wasn’t going to die alone. And Bertolt wouldn’t either. “It’s ok…” he said. Not as forgiveness, but as the only assurance he could imagine. “It’ll be ok. You’re not alone…”

“Huh?”

“You’re not alone,” was all he could say. It sounded more hollow than it felt. “You’ll be ok, okay?”

The wind started to howl and the night seemed to feel even colder as Reiner didn’t respond. Finally, after minutes of Bertl finally feeling cold again, there was a nod from Reiner. “Yeah,” he said, in a hushed tone. “We can do this. We’ll be ok…”

He paused, and let his grip loosen. “You should rest for tonight. We’ll rest tomorrow too, then will walk home tomorrow night. Okay?”

“I… okay. I’m so sorry again…” He sounded mollified now, and Bertolt couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

He didn’t respond, because he still couldn’t settle on whether or not to forgive. “I’ll see you in the morning,” was all he said instead, and waited for Reiner to lay down. He got down, a foot away from Bertolt. He couldn’t help but twist away before closing his eyes.

“Oh…” Reiner said. He sniffled, before a quick “fuck,” was whispered as icy snot stabbed his nostril. “Good night then… I’ll see you in the morning too.”

Bertl didn’t hear anything else from Reiner. But now, his mind raced too much for him to fall asleep easily.


	20. Chapter 20

After an entire day of sleeping, Bertolt woke up at sunset facing Reiner. His eyelashes were frosted over, sealing his eyes shut, and his lips were stained purple, and had Bertolt not been feeling frostbite take over him for the last week, then he would have been alarmed. Reiner was ok, he urged himself to think. This was just how it was now.

Still… it felt right to make sure. Eyes wide and stinging from the cold, he reached out a purple hand to touch his face to make sure he reacted. Before his fingers could touch Reiner, his eyes opened enough to see Bertolt, even if his top and bottom lashes were frosted together. He breathed out a foggy sigh, and Bertolt immediately retracted his hand, quickly enough that he couldn’t see a steam trail pour out behind it. “Sorry,” he whispered quietly.

Reiner didn’t appear mad. That carefree smile that Bertolt had known for so long had disappeared, but his eyes were still warm. “Don’t be,” he said quietly, another puff of fog blowing from his mouth.

Bertolt tried to sit up, but he felt even weaker than he had last night. But.., he got to sleep, didn’t he? He should have at least energized.

Reiner rolled over and stretched, his shirt soaked from the puddle of melted snow around him, and pulled himself up. He glanced down at Bertl, then got to his knees. “Snow that deep?” he asked.

That must’ve been it. Reiner held out his hand, and Bertl took it. He gripped as tightly as he could, but it was still flimsy enough that he fell onto his back again. Reiner gripped Bertolt’s arm with his other arm, until finally he was standing.

Reiner’s second hand fell away from Bertolt’s forearm quickly, but the hand that was holding Bertl’s lingered. It finally loosened its grip, and he found himself staring at his own hand. It was completely purple, but felt so warm at that moment. He missed that feeling, as much as he hated to say it. He noticed that there wasn’t any fog coming from it, despite his entire hand being purple.

He should be healing, shouldn’t he? “Reiner…?” he asked quietly, but when he looked up at the golden-haired boy, he too was staring down at Bertl’s hand.

“Yeah, I see it,” he whispered. “You know what’s going on, don’t you?” he asked.

Bertolt didn’t. He realized what Reiner was hinting at after a second, and shook his head to show Reiner that he  _ didn’t _ know. “I’ve only started healing a few days before all… this… happened. You’d know more than I.”

There was no dry laugh from Reiner this time. “Oh,” he said quietly. He took Bertolt’s hand, steam till pouring from all of the frostbitten parts of his own hand. “I can… suppress my healing. Why’re you doing it now?”

“I’m not,” Bertolt said feebly. A hint of panic raised at his stomach but he shoved it down.

Reiner pulled his hands away, shoving them into his pajama pockets. Bertolt followed suit. 

“You’ve got to be doing something,” he said finally. “You can’t just… not heal if you didn’t want to.”

A horrible thought entered Bertolt’s mind, about how there was no point to living after he got out of this, but he shoved it down. As right as his brain was, it shouldn’t be subconsciously trying to kill him. “I don’t know,” was all he said.

Reiner nodded, golden eyes wide with panic. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Alright, alright, alright.” He sighed, ragged. “We should just get out of here again.” He looked up at the sky, obviously trying to trace where light pollution was coming from. They were close enough to the city that it was hard to figure the exact source of light. Maybe another night of walking.

That was one of the things that gave Bertolt hope. “Close,” he said, thoughts too occupied on the thought of dying out here before he could reach the city to say much more.

“Yeah,” Reiner said. “Can you walk?”

It took effort, but the adrenaline at least gave him enough energy to do it. “Ehhh…” he said. 

“Good enough,” Reiner said. He started to tromp through the snow, and Bertolt followed suit in his deep prints. He didn’t even notice the direction, and he couldn’t be bothered to look at the yellowed sky.  

_ Just keep walking, just keep -- you’re gonna die -- No, we’re almost there, keep walking. _ His thoughts were always interjected by some horrible idea. He just wanted to think on one thing. Now wasn’t the time to think of the way your fingers were going to fall off, how you’d fall down in the snow and the only people who’d find you would want you dead anyways. You didn’t want to think of it, but every step, some new sentence made its way into how there wasn’t any point in continuing. 

“You ok?” Reiner asked, stopping and twisting around. He was a good 20 metres ahead, and waited for Bert to catch up.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Need any help?” Reiner held out his hand, like it’d give Bertolt energy.

“I’m fine,” he said, then realized that the stress made him sound clipped and angry. At the look on Reiner’s face, he tilted his head and forced a smile, just to say, “Thanks though.”

“Alright, let’s keep going.”

***

It was only an hour before Bertolt noticed a clearing in the trees. It was quiet before, but Bertolt couldn’t notice the dull roar that happened rhythmically. It was the first change from the monotony, and his stomach leaped, then fell back into a previously unnoticed pit. He realized just how hungry he was. 

“Bertolt?” Reiner asked, stepping ahead even thought Bertl had stopped. “I think…” 

Bertolt stepped ahead, legs shaky and losing his balance. He fell into the deep snow, his hands breaking through a frozen layer. He looked up and noticed that he was staring up a hill. That dull roar grew louder, the distinctive sound of a car. That couldn’t…

“We’re almost there!” Reiner shouted. He twisted around, and in the light of a set of headlights whizzing by, Bertolt could see the tears in his eyes. “We’re gonna make it, Bertolt!”

To that, Bertl couldn’t help but laugh. He laughed even harder until tears poured from him as well. They froze his eyelashes shut, but he still couldn’t help it. He’d survive, he’d survive, he’d survive.

Reiner ran down the ditch and hugged Bertolt, lifting him up and spinning him around. “I told you we could do it! We’re almost there!”

“Yeah,” Bertolt said through a hiccupy sob. “Yeah.”

“And it was your light pollution idea that got us through,” Reiner said. “I could just kiss you for that.” 

Then, Bertolt quieted down. He wiped the ice from his eyes, and looked down at Reiner. If it was different then he would have kissed him. Reiner’s face fell and he let Bertl down. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Bertl nodded, and followed Reiner as he started to walk up the hill, his face turning back into a wide grin.

They stood at the top of the ditch, staring down a long highway, trees on either side. Another car was coming up, then another. On the other end, there was traffic headed out of the city. 

“So…,” Reiner said, sticking out his thumb. “Before we find Eren, let’s find something to eat. I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of the woods! Out of the woods!! Writing should be easier now, haha


	21. Chapter 21

They waited on the highway for what felt like hours. The last time Bertolt had hitchhiked, it didn’t take long before someone took him into the city. Now, it probably took longer because a pair of massive guys on the side of the road at night weren’t exactly the most safe people to pick up. At this moment in particular, he wished that wasn’t the case. If someone didn’t pick him up soon, he’d die out here in the snow.

“Reiner?” he asked. He’d been told to hide his hands, because they’d scare someone and raise a lot of questions.

“Yeah?” The rush from an hour earlier had faded, and now they were both grimly aware of exactly the challenges they would face inside the city. First, they were criminals and because of how (Bertl cursed the pun in his own mind) big the entire situation was.

“We don’t have any money,” he whispered, the first vocal acknowledgement for the situation for the entire hour. “We’ll just starve in the cold, but in the city this time.”

There was a silence, and another car passed by them without so much as looking their way. Even if they were in pyjamas, and freezing, and needed to get out of here. A pang of bitterness went through Bertolt before it was interrupted with “If someone’ll pick us up we can ask for 20 dollars… just enough for a meal.” Reiner held his thumb out again. “It’s ok, we’ll figure this out.”

“Ok,” he said quietly. He was hungry, and he was terrified he’d look down at his dead hands and see he was a finger short.

“I’m still not healing,” he whispered, and felt a lurch of his stomach. “I should…”

“I know,” Reiner said. “That’s ok.”

It wasn’t. He was going to die. If not from hypothermia from the frostbite.

“It’ll be ok,” Reiner said quietly. “It’ll be ok...”

The almost-chant was interrupted as bright headlights blinded them and didn’t drive past. A car slowed in front of them and they couldn’t help but stare at the truck in front of them.

The door to the truck opened and a tall man with silver-blonde hair and glasses stepped out. He was dressed in a long coat. Wealthier than the rusted pickup implied. “Are you guys ok?” He paused as he saw Bertolt and Reiner more closely. “Oh my god...” His hand reached for his pocket immediately, and Bertl could do nothing but stare in dumb shock as the man pulled out his phone.

“Stop!” Reiner said finally. He looked like he’d bring the man to the ground before he’d let him make any calls.

“No,” he said, making a jolt of panic run through Bertolt. “You guys...” _are Titan and that other one._ “You guys need a hospital.”

The panic subsided, but only a little.

“We’re fine,” Reiner said. “Don’t worry about us.” A pause from him, and Bertolt couldn’t help but admire how calm he was. “We don’t want any trouble.”

Now, the older man stopped. His glasses looked like he’d made them himself, and his beard was rife with silver streaks. He only looked about 30 though... “The police then?” he asked.

To that, Reiner shook his head even harder than he’d been. Bertolt joined in. “No,” they said in unison. “We just need to get into the city.”

“Oh...” The man stopped, phone now glowing in his face, making his eyes invisible through his glasses’ glare. “Ok... I -- I can help with that.”

The man was so shaken, and Bertolt realized he should be more shocked by their condition. But it’d been like this for so long.

“Get in the car,” the man said, voice quivering and silver-blonde-blonde hair flying with the wind.

They nodded, and Reiner murmured a thanks for the both of them, before Reiner got in shotgun and Bertolt was content with climbing in the back.

The man crawled in, his phone off and safely in his pocket. Thank God. Bertolt couldn’t help but shove his feet in front of the heater. They burned, but the burn subsided as the heat finally absorbed itself into them. He sighed quietly, and the tears started coming again.

He didn’t care. He was safe now. He was warm now. He’d be ok. There’d be problems up and down the rest of the way but for now he was safe. He wasn’t going to die of hypothermia, and hopefully his limbs would warm enough that they wouldn’t just... fall off. The thought was enough to make him cry harder. He was safe. In this moment he was as safe as could be.

“Is there something wrong with your friend?” the man asked quietly as they started to drive.

There was a strained groan, that was barely audible to Bertolt’s ears, as Reiner obviously tried to think of a cover story. “Camping,” was the lame response.

The other man breathed a sigh. “In this weather...”

To that, Reiner said something that made Bertolt stop sobbing to choke back a cough: “Didn’t want anyone to walk in on us.”

A sort of scoff. “Of course,” the man said. Bertolt could basically hear the grimace on his voice, and Bertolt was very much feeling the same.

“I’m joking,” Reiner said, but Bertl wasn’t sure whether the clarification was to the man or to him.

Bertolt took some deep breaths, leaning over and pushing his hands in front of the heater to warm them too. No fog appeared when he exhaled.

So he’d have to heal like a normal person would. That’d be ok. He’d live through that.

“What’s your name?” he asked finally, but he wasn’t sure if the man could hear it? He still sounded breathy and tired... that probably wouldn’t change for a while.

“Zeke,” the man said. He sounded more confident now, like he was less shocked. “You…?” Bertl looked up to see him glancing through the rear-view mirror at him.

Reiner started with “Tom.”

Yeah, fake names were probably a really good idea.

Bertolt was quieter for a second before he said, “Skylar...” was the most his brain would offer. That would work, right?

“Huh...” he mused, but didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t see through that, did he? He probably did, and Bertolt’s clenched, nails digging into waxy palms, at the thought. “You just wanna get into Toronto, right?” Again, he regarded them with those spectacled eyes and Bertolt couldn’t help but flinch. “Nothing else I can help with?” His glasses flashed golden, reflecting his headlights.

He sounded so knowing. It made Bertolt’s anxiety spike.

“Food money?” Reiner interjected. He hesitated before lying again with, “A moose got our tent.”

“A moose?” Zeke asked.

Bertolt looked up to see Reiner grinning. “Yeah. I was just about to put some snow over the campfire -- safety and all -- before heading to bed, and this massive-ass moose started walking towards us. So Bertolt wasn’t asleep yet so I got him out of the tent and we ran!”

Bertolt... Reiner’d messed up on the story. He hoped that Zeke didn’t notice, but from the silence in the car, he probably did.

“Reiner,” he mouthed, so only Reiner would be able to understand.

There was a nod, so Reiner continued (presumably to keep distracting Zeke). “But anyway, yeah. It even had a calf and we had to hide out overnight in some kinda cave. Got back to the campsite, and everything was destroyed. Our clothes were soaked and frozen, and the wallet was in the ashes.”

He was good... if he didn’t call Bertolt by his real name.

Zeke was quiet again. Just quiet. He kept driving ahead, not twisting his head to look at either of them. Bertolt saw Reiner glance back at him through the rear view mirror. They exchanged a nod.

“Bertolt?” Zeke asked. Didn’t even sound shocked... He said it like that was just the fact. It was, but he was so calm about it. Why?

He looked like he was going to have a panic attack earlier at the sight of them. What was with the change in behaviour? He could’ve been a serial killer. But he was going to take them into the police, he knew it.

“Bertolt Hoover...” Zeke said. Without a beat, he glanced to his right. “That makes you Reiner Braun.”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

Zeke was going to take them in. This was it. Any hope of getting rid of these powers and forgetting what they’d done (or for Bertolt, what he had the ability to do) were ruined. They’d rot in a cell if they were lucky.

“Yeah...” Reiner said. Bertolt watched as his hand lifted, but he didn’t understand why.

“Don’t try anything funny,” Zeke said. _Now,_ he paused in silent thought. “I’m surprised we actually met.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Reiner asked, eyes glowing in the darkness.

“I mean I’ve got some things to talk about with you guys. How about instead of me just giving you guys breakfast cash we sit down at my place?”

Bertolt watched as he pulled his glasses off his face, to reveal almost non-human eyes. Glowing like Reiner’s, but with irises so large they couldn’t belong to a normal person.

Another shifter, Bertolt realized. From the way Reiner’s breath hitched, he reached the same conclusion. “I think there’s a lot we can learn from each other.”


	22. Chapter 22

“There’re more then?” Reiner asked. He flashed a look at Bert. So was he lying then?

“Yeah,” Zeke said. “I’ll explain after we get your boyfriend some food. Needs the energy.”

He wondered how Zeke would ever know that they’d been boyfriends (he was sure the status had changed), but then realized news stations would probably be all too happy to point that out. Still, he glanced back at Birdie in the mirror. He was skinnier than normal, but he heard the breath of gratitude from him.

He didn’t know what to say. “You’re not going to hand us in then?” Bertl finally asked.

To that, Zeke laughed. “Why’d I do that?”

They were wanted criminals with the ability to destroy the city, and when Reiner’s memory blacked out, he’d definitely destroyed parts of it. “It’d be smart to…”

“Not at all. You’re one of us. And you’re looking for answers”

“No shit,” Reiner finally blurted. He forgot that he was angry until it burst from the seams. “We need answers, a place to stay, basically anything you’re able to offer.” He fucked up and he’d fucked up bad. Now it’d had finally gotten to him.

“I’ll let you stay at my place. I live just out of town.” He was so stupidly calm, but still Reiner couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude.

But he couldn’t even be sure that Zeke was safe to talk to. Even if he  _ was _ another shifter. 

“How many of us are there?” Reiner asked quietly. 

“I’ve got a number, but not right now.”

“Just tell us,” Bertolt shivered. 

“You need food first.”

Reiner became aware of lampposts becoming visible and lighting the road for them. Finally they were in the city…

“Think you guys can make it to my place?”

His stomach had hurt so long from emptiness it’d become numb. Only when he thought about it he realized how bad it was. Neither of them had eaten in almost two weeks… At least Reiner had the body fat to burn, but Birdie… didn’t.

He glanced back at him, and he looked like he wanted to say something but was too afraid to. And Reiner could wait till they got back to Zeke’s place (if that was where they were really headed,) but Bertolt looked like another hour would kill him. It probably wouldn’t but the thought sent terror into him. “Don’t think we can wait,” Reiner said. He watched as Bert smiled back at him. He was hungry too, but the gratitude warmed Reiner…

Zeke sighed, but he noticed as he changed lanes towards the next exit. “I know a drivethru nearby if you guys want. It’s not fancy but it should tide you guys over.”

“Yes please,” Bertolt finally said.

“Aight.” Zeke stayed in his lane and took the exit. “‘S only a few minutes away, so don’t worry about starving or anything.”

“Yeah…” Bertolt said feebly. The both of them had been afraid of it. They were both afraid to just say it.

They drove in silence. Reiner dared not look out the window for fear that Zeke would take them somewhere else. So he stared out the windshield, glancing at those glowing eyes and glasses. There were more. There were more and they’ve been around this entire time. He didn’t know if Bertolt was one of those and he didn’t know if this was part of some conspiracy to reel him in. How had they never shown up before?

His head started to hurt and a feeling like he’d been used started to creep back in. Maybe Bertolt  _ was _ using him. He kept saying he didn’t know, but at the moment it seemed he did. And he knew tons.

“You ok?” Zeke asked. His eyes started to dim.

“I’m…” He didn’t know.

“Yeah,” Zeke said. “I could hear you sighing a mile away.”

“How come I didn’t know?” he asked. “What about Bertolt? How does he play into this?”

To that, Zeke shushed him. “It’s harder than that. It’s more complex…” He turned off the main highway. “We didn’t know about you guys at all.”

So then Bertolt wasn’t using Reiner. He was thankful for that. Then that meant there were a lot of coincidences. Or this was all Reiner’s fault. Or maybe Bert knew earlier, just without this… group. 

He wanted to cry. He didn’t know. He just wanted to know.

“When can you tell me?” Reiner asked finally.

“You’re not the only one involved,” Zeke said. “Bertolt deserves as much explanation as you.”

That was humbling to say the least. He nodded. He’d just shut up. Zeke was right.

“But I can tell you when we get home.”

Then the thoughts came back. This was such a huge, confusing situation. And how had there never been any reports of Titan (multiple Titans?) before Reiner had gained the ability? And why was Bertolt’s Titan form so much bigger than his?

“So how far till home?” he asked. He needed to know. The curiosity had burned for so long, and now it was  _ right _ in front of him and now he wasn’t getting any answers. It was bugging him. 

“After eating, an hour.” There was another turn and the lights of the city turned brighter. He was  glad, but felt he should have been hiding his face. “We’re not eating in.”

Yeah, because they were wanted criminals. “Thanks,” he heard Bertolt say.

“No problem.” They drove a minute longer until Zeke pulled into the drive-through. “I hope you guys aren’t picky.” 

He ordered two burgers for each of them, and extra-large drinks. “Blood sugar,” was the only explanation he offered. Neither of them had asked.

He drove out, and they were back on the highway. Reiner could feel his mouth wetten again, and this time it was warm, much unlike the snow they’d had to use for hydration. Reiner grabbed his drink, and he noticed that Bertolt was drinking like a kid on his birthday. 

“Blood sugar.” Again, Zeke’s unwanted explanation. 

“Okay..” Reiner watched, and he passed the burgers back to Bertolt. He took them greedily. Reiner had never seen him like that. He was always dainty, like he was embarrassed to eat. 

Zeke kept driving, and Reiner took the first bite of food in what felt like weeks. He was finally safe. He was okay.

Bertolt finished his drink, the sound of the straw suckling up wet air hitting his ears. He finally took a breath, and Reiner couldn’t help but laugh. They were okay. They’d be okay.

Reiner then heard Bert join in the laughter. He twisted around, and Bert was holding his hand up. The blackened flesh was healing up. He was turning back to his normal, pinkish-olive colour. He was okay. 

“Blood sugar,” Zeke said, yet again. “You had more fat stores, so yours didn’t matter.”

So that was the secret to healing. Having food. “Oh..” Reiner said. They were okay. They were ok, they were okay.

“Now, we head home. You need a lot more explanations.”

Reiner nodded. He wanted to know it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways imma try to be a more active writer :33


	23. Chapter 23

They were both exhausted by the time that they had gotten back to Zeke’s house, but the promise of learning what was wrong with them had kept Reiner awake. He wanted to know. He wanted to know more than anything. Why him, why Lionhead, why Bertolt? If he really had no connection to all this and his transformation was a first, why  _ then? _

Zeke opened the door and let them in. Birdie ducked in first, and was greeted by the sound of high-pitched barks. Reiner jumped back in surprise before realizing he was safe. He followed Bert, where the dog was no running full tilt down the hall. It was only small, barely the size of a westie, but it still looked excited.

“Aya, calm down,” Zeke said into the hall. The dog was already hopping up Bertolt’s leg, tongue hanging out. She yipped one last time, dropped down, and started running down the hall again. “Hope she hasn’t broken anything,” Zeke whispered. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, before stepping inside, kicking off his boots, and shutting the door. The sounds of winter died down, and the light snowfall was barely visible.

Reiner finally let out a warm breath, still steaming from repairing his damaged body. He was thankful for it, just this once. They would have died without it.

He hoped they’d never put themselves in a perilous situation like that again, but if they had to run again, Reiner wasn’t afraid of fleeing again. He’d just have to be certain to pack food, if it was at all possible. He clearly would survive if he ate well. Bertolt on the other hand, would have to eat even better or die out there.

“Do you want the explanation now, or when you’re more awake?” he asked after a moment.

Reiner didn’t know. He could barely keep his eyes open, feeling like he had when in childhood his family had taken long road trips. Where they’d come home even later than right now, but Reiner could do nothing more but crash on the nearest remotely-soft surface.

He looked at Bertolt, whose glowing irises disappeared when he blinked in response. He looked… owlish. “I don’t think I can handle tonight,” he said after a moment. In reality, he wanted it so badly. He needed it enough his chest hurt that he was denying himself that for at least another few hours. But if he couldn’t process the information it’d be worthless, especially because he didn’t know if this other shifter would be willing to repeat it.

“Hah…” Bertolt turned towards Zeke. “I think we should wait too, then…”

His eyes stung when Zeke turned on the lights. “Alright then. I’ll show you the guest room.”

He showed them down the hall, covered in red floral wallpaper. “Kitchen,” he offered, pointing to his right as he turned. Reiner glanced in to see a relatively large room with the dining table inside it. He missed cooking… “Bathroom.” He pointed to the first door on the right, then stopped at the left door. “Here’s the guest room.” He flicked the lights on to reveal an average-sized bedroom with a queen-sized bed in it. “You guys don’t mind, right?” It took a moment for Reiner to register that Zeke was asking about the shared bed, but right now Reiner didn’t care. He wanted warmth, he wanted not to be soaked in melted snow, and he just wanted  _ rest. _ Beside him, Bertolt huffed, but sighed afterwards. “It’s fine.”

Reiner had forgotten how angry Bertolt was… He echoed the sigh, missing the warmth and affection they’d had for that one stupid morning. The guilt tugged at his stomach for even bringing Bertolt into this all. “Thank you,” he said.

As he looked back at Zeke, he smiled with closed lips. “Sleep well, boys. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

Reiner nodded his thanks again, both of them stepping inside and closing the door. He felt drenched to the bone. He reached for the bottom of his shirt, then realized that Bertolt was around. He twisted around, hands still ready to move. “You don’t mind?”

His eyes widened, but then he pursed his lips. “Do what you need.”

He nodded, and in one swift motion had his shirt on the ground. “Are pants okay too?” he asked, just to make sure.

“Don’t touch me, but fine.” He’d pulled his shorts completely down in a moment, and made his way into bed, sure to stay on the edge. He expected to hear the flap of Bertolt pulling his clothes off, but instead felt his feather’s weight on the other side of the bed.

“You’ll catch cold,” Reiner joked quietly.

“Don’t care.”

Reiner realized that he forgot to turn off the lights, so quickly scooted out of bed and did that before he got too comfortable. He got into bed again, facing away from Bertolt for his own comfort.

“Good night,” Reiner said, sinking into the mattress.

“Night,” Bertolt said back. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Love you…” Reiner said quietly enough he should have been the only one to hear that. Birdie shifted, as if he heard it.

He dug his face into the pillow. He laid there in the darkness, taking deep breaths to calm the whirlwind of all that had happened running through his mind. If just for a few hours, his memory could blank… If he could just have some peace of mind. He indulged in the silent ‘prayer’, before it lulled him to sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

Bertolt woke up the sound of a phone ringing. Immediately he reached for the floor near his bed, but realized too late that he didn’t have one. He hung there, off the side of the bed, staring at the hardwood floor. When he started to slip, he tried to pull himself back up but wasn't strong enough to even do that. He fell face first onto the floor, groaning before the rest of him slunk off the bed.

The ringing stopped with a muffled “Hello?” from another room. He heard Reiner shifting, rolling in his direction, so did his best to get up onto his knees before Reiner saw him flat out on the floor.

“You good?” he heard Reiner slur.

“Fine,” he said. He stretched and realized the pain in his chest. He hissed, crumpling against himself.

“You… sure?” Reiner now was looking up at him, and Bertolt instinctively crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Dead certain,” he said.  _ Stop prying. _

He furrowed his brow, but rolled over, thankfully giving up. He was completely unprepared to deal with having to come out to Reiner, and frankly didn’t want to. He slipped out of the room and made his way to the bathroom. He examined the room, lights not turned on. He memorized where the toilet was, shut the door so he was in complete darkness, and put the lid down. Sitting down, he took off his shirt, gritting his teeth with the movement, but his skin screaming in delight at the feeling of the dampness being removed. His binder came next, but this time it felt like his skin was peeling off with every movement. When he jerked his arms up to pull the damned thing off, the stabbing pain in his ribs was enough to make him gasp.

And of course, it was too damp to take off completely. He tried to wriggle out of it, but it was stuck over his head. He huffed, but took deep breaths against the throb on his ribs. 

He regretted this. A ton. So he just stayed there, taking his time and trying not to rush. The important thing was that it was off his chest, and it needed its time to recuperate. With his healing abilities, he didn’t know how long that would take.

He heard Zeke talking now though. “No, no, I understand.” A pause. “Yeah, I understand, but we’ve got a  _ duty _ for the moment. And yeah, one of them went and did all that, but he clearly didn’t have any guidance.” Bertolt, uncomfortable with the eavesdropping, tried to wriggle his way out of his binder.

“Yes, I know. Just come over here? You need to be around. Thanks, P. An hour?” Bertolt kept wriggling, until it was free from his elbows. “Thanks a ton. See you then.”

Then he heard silence, and he was completely freed from his binder. His breaths deepened and moisture ran over his jaw. He dropped the binder and brushed a hand over, and drops of water started to condense on his hand too. Healing there.. That was good. He rubbed the water onto his still-wet pants. He put his other hand there, continuing the wetting/rubbing-off process until there was no water forming on his palm anymore. He breathed, assuming that had meant that he was completely healed. 

He bent over on the toilet, airing his chest out so it didn't smell like mouldy binder. He listened for the heating vent and dropped his binder on top of it. Then, he sat in the darkness and let himself rest. 

***

At 10:00, Reiner woke up again and was pierced with how much he missed Annie. He laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, the worry enough he had to cover his face with his arm. 

God he hoped she was okay… she wouldn't have been tested or anything, would she? He sighed loudly, trying to dispel horrible thoughts from his mind. 

Maybe a coffee would help. Maybe that explanation from Zeke would give him peace of mind. 

He crawled out of bed and stretched as he walked. He threw his shirt on, still damp, and made his way down the hall. It seemed… foggy in there, and he soon realized the cause of it. Clouds were trailing out the bottom of the door, and Reiner wondered what was going on in there. If Zeke was smoking or something…

Didn't smell like it.. more like a towel that had been left on the floor for too long. He brushed it off and made his way into the kitchen. There, Zeke looked up from his phone and grinned at Reiner. He took a drink out of his coffee and motioned to it. “It's still hot.” Then he went back to looking at his phone, and his brow furrowed again. 

Reiner did so and hunted around the cupboards for the ones with the mugs.

“Hotter… hotter… bingo,” he said without looking up. He finally found the cupboard and every mug was covered in some dumb slogan. He grabbed one that seemed the least cheesy, and made his way to the coffee pot. He leaned by the countertop, still wary of sitting down next to Zeke. He still seemed… too welcoming. 

He drank his coffee across the kitchen, not bothering to put in any sugar or cream.

“You’re sitting there like a scared rabbit. Come on, sit down… I won’t bite.” He flashed a grin and Reiner realized he had an array of unnaturally sharp teeth. He tried not to recoil at the sight, but he felt the familiar coolness of his arm hair raising.

Reiner shook the feeling away and pulled out a chair across the table from him. Zeke maintained eye contact the entire time, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was some experiment as he sat down. When he did, Zeke went back to scrolling through his phone.

He sipped in silence, realizing his leg was bouncing like it always did when he was nervous. “What’re you reading?” he asked finally, after what felt like a good minute.

“News,” he said. “Need to keep updated.”

“Ah…” Reiner said after a moment. “Anything on us?”

“Died out a couple days ago. I mean, there’s the odd ‘if you see these men, then call 911’ but other than that no.”

Reiner smacked his lips and took another sip. The door to the bathroom swung open and Bertolt made his way out. He had bags under his eyes and he walked drowsily. As he made his way to the kitchen he was practically leaning against the wall. Apparently he was just as tired as when he fell out of bed this morning. He made eye contact w Reiner and his brow furrows. Reiner made sure to look away, hurt by the coldness he was giving off.

“Morning,” he said to Zeke quietly as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Coffee’s right there.” He pointed behind Bertolt at the coffee machine. “You look like you need it.”

He didn’t respond, and instead sat down between the other two.

“So. Explanation,” Bertolt said. 

Zeke looked at the both of them and grimaced. “I know you guys don’t want to wait any more but…” Reiner already took in a deep breath to sigh. “There’s someone else who’s got all the information we’ve got, so I’d feel better if she was around.”

“Don’t you know enough to start?” Bertolt asked, tired. “And is that who P is…?”

Zeke glared at Bert. “You overheard that?” He paused and shut his eyes, before taking a deep breath. “Never mind. I’d just rather wait for her.”

Before Reiner could be taken aback by Bertolt’s cross attitude, the doorbell rang and Zeke practically jumped out of his chair. “Here she is!”

He made his way down the entry way out of sight. Seconds later, the dog woke up and bolted to follow him. 

“Aaah, I’m so glad you can come.” The dog stopped barking, and Reiner heard P cooing at Aya. Finally, it died down and their footsteps were heard. Zeke mumbled something, then louder said, “They’re just over here.”

They came out from the corner (Aya trailing behind), and Reiner came face to face with a short, black-haired woman. She had a cane, despite only looking a couple years older than him and Bertolt. She had sleepy eyes, but an interested stare. She shook her head before making eye contact with the both of them. “My name’s Pieck, nice to meet you guys.”

Reiner glanced at Bertolt and noticed he could only give a wide-eyed nod.

“Nice to meet you too,” Reiner said for them both.

She sat down at the table too, stealing a sip from Zeke’s mug before quickly returning it to where it was. “So,” she began as Zeke sat down beside her (and narrowing his eyes at her), “Shall we start?”


End file.
